


Resurrected

by YoungSoon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Eventual Romance, Heavy Themes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Tags will be added eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: "I will personally make sure you won’t have to go through such hell ever again,”a crazy promise - unbelievable even, coming from Levi’s mouth - but those are the right words to say. Somewhere deep inside, behind all the walls he has constructed around his heart, he knows it’s the truth - a promise he will keep, a promise those large, green eyes looking at him needs more than anything right now.Past, present and future all mingle in one in a simple, plain apartment that becomes a home to heal a broken spirit and mend a heart long broken.





	1. Chapter 1

Fire red and ice blue lights reflect in the dimmed windows and against the obnoxiously purple and pink neon signs. Voices echoed around the street, rushing feet on the fresh wet pavement after the downpour just counted minutes ago. Seven men lay face first on the ground spitting curses and threats against the puddles on the ground, their hands cuffed behind their back. Around fifteen young boys, from age 12 till 16, are huddling next to a paramedics car, covered in blankets. Most of them are shaking, some are crying and all are holding onto each other as if that is the only way of keeping themselves sane. Officers in full gear - bulletproof vests, helmets with visors, heavy combat boots and fully loaded guns at their sides - patrol around the scene.

This had to be one of the craziest nights in most of their careers. It was an anonymous call from a horrified young man in absolute hysterical episode yelling in the receiver about the most disgusting place he had ever been to that had set the operation in motion. He described rooms with young boys chained to beds, screams and cries, pleads to stop still cutting in his ears even though he had long left the scene. It should have been a secret, a small “outing with the boss” no one would ever find about, but his consciousness was stronger. 

It was matter of hours when the first police cars arrived before the night-club mid city. It wasn’t a shabby downtown establishment, no, it looked more like a prestige bar for high class businessmen to have a drink in after work. Unfortunately it wasn’t the only thing they had and that made one’s stomach turn. 

The warrant for search arrived few minutes too late, the first squad already entering the building, however the bullets flying at them instantly proved the situation to be as serious as it seemed or even more. It was a matter of forty minutes for the culprits to finally succumb and the rescue to begin. Never had the officers seen each other with tears in their comrade's eyes as they carried half conscious, beaten and drugged boys out of the building. 

Emotions overflowed as the older boys - stronger and more conscious - gathered the younger ones in their shaking arms, wrapping them in blankets as they rocked back and forth, chanting over and over to them how now everything will be okay. They were the one’s crying even more than the smaller boys, thanking the officers endlessly.

“It’s okay. No one will touch you anymore,” a green-eyed boy half whispered, half sobbed gently petting the messy head of a boy around 4 years younger than him, who was clinging onto the older one’s shirt, hiding his face deep in the blankets. There was another - a blue eyed blond, around 14 years old - resting against his shoulder, holding onto the rough, grey blanket around his shoulders, his eyes lifelessly looking at the paramedics car where a foreign boy - hair fiery orange, freckles dancing on his fallen in cheeks - was holding onto another young one’s hand while medics checked him.

A lot of things could be seen in Kabukicho, but this was beyond what an ordinary officer ever expected. A sudden attack on their own humanity, on their own morals and sense of duty and the more heartstrings it pulled at, the more the disgusted they felt with the scene before their eyes.

“Little filthy rats!” yelled out a heavily tattooed man laying on the ground, “I will hunt every single one of you filthy sluts down, you hear me!” he barked until a heavy boot landed on his stomach. 

“Shut up! Fucking bastard! Filthy piece of shit!” the first kick was followed by another one, “Disgrace to humankind! I should shoot you right here and now, you disgusting leach!” the officer yelled down at the man, his kicks getting more vicious until another policeman pulled him away.

“Jean, stop!” he grabbed the angry by the arm, pulling him further away from the men on the floor. “You’re scaring the kids,” he ads in a soft voice and Jean turns to the boys sitting further away. The smaller ones are peaking at him with fear in their eyes, while the older ones are holding them even tighter and closer than before. 

“No… I didn’t mean to… damn it,” Jean stutters before turning away. He tries to rub his face with the rough gloves still on, the visor and the helmet in the way. “Fuck!” he yells out, throwing the gloves and helmet on the ground, squatting down. “Fucking hell. I became an officer to stop this from happening, Marco. I became an officer to prevent his… So no one else would have to… like me...” he chokes up, well knowing how weak of a man he looks right now.

“Let’s bring them some water and more blankets,” his partner gathers the thrown away items. “That’s how we can help now,” the soft spoken man adds and Jean nods. He quietly follows to one of the cars, taking water and blankets. He tries his best to be strong, however when a hand - weak and small - hold onto his and a small, small voice whispers a ‘thank you’ he can’t hold up any longer. He kneels right there next to the boys and all he can do is promise again and again that now they are safe. 

“Should have left you in the station, sergeant” a stern voice frightens Jean and he jumps up on his feet immediately. “This was obviously too much for you,” a man shorter than Jean, with an ice cold face and freezing, bluish-grey eyes looks at him with something mixed between disgust and deep sorrow. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jean bows, “I am taking this matter too personally,” he ads before straightening his back.

“Go and help gathering the documents from their office,” the shorter man orders and Jean bows before leaving quickly, still trying to rub his eyes out.

The blue-eyed man follows his emotion struck comrade with his eyes until he reaches the club. He silently let’s out a breath and is about to talk to the paramedics who are checking yet another boy and then head to the social service worker that just arrived, but a hand grabs his before he walks away.

“Eren is not out,” speaks the blond boy with big, blue eyes. It doesn’t look like he has cried, but it seems he is too shocked to do so.

“We checked every room,” the man replies but the boy shakes his head.

“They keep him locked up, because he tried to escape many time. There is a room in the main office behind the bookshelf,” the boy speaks clearly and intelligently, despite lingering fear in his eyes. 

“What’s your name?” the officer squats down to face the boy.

“Armin,” he replies and the man nods. He gently pushes Armin’s hand back against the boy's own chest and fixes the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“I will go get your friend. Don’t worry,” he ensures and after the blond boy nods, he stands up and makes his way back to the bar.

The building is full with police men gathering all possible evidence and documents, everyone doing their very best to find every bit of information that would reveal client lists, traffickers, affiliated gangs or establishments - anything to find other places like this. He walks right to the main office where Jean and 3 other men are putting files into large boxes. His attention is on the large bookshelf at the back. 

At first glance there are no buttons, no levers, no panels that could open it. He turns to the desk. The surface has been cleaned from all papers and equipment - no buttons or switches on it either. One by one he pulls out the drawers, checking in and behind them. He kneels to look under the table, yet nothing there either. His cold eyes look around the room once more, at the table and the bookshelf. Did the blond boy make this up because of shock? No, he wasn’t in a state he would make this up.

He kneels down again, this time checking the floor and this time it’s a success. Under the corner of the rug hides a switch. He presses it and before he even stands up he can hear the shelf moving and the other men in the room gasping. 

The moving shelf reveals a wooden door, locked. A logical thing would be to find the key, but if there really was someone in there the key was not important at all. Despite other people in the room trying to stop him, he pulls out his gun and shoots the lock. The wood around it crumbles and it takes one kick for the door to open.

There is almost no light in the room, only dim blue shadows falling from few small lamps on the walls. They illuminate a set of tightly set bars and a figure standing against them, holding onto the metal with both hands. The policeman enters the room, taking his helmet off on his way in and handing it to Jean, who was behind him now, looking into the room.

“Eren?” he calls out at the figure, which twitches and gasps in shock. “Eren, is that you?” he repeats and there’s finally a response.

“Yes! Yes, I’m here!” the dark silhouette responds and the policeman moves further in. His eyes get used to the light and he can finally see the boy before him. He is probably the oldest from the group, possibly 16 years old. He’s tall and lean, his teal eyes big and almost creepy looking against thinned out face that is hiding a handsome young man. His hair reaches his shoulders in a tousled, dark brown mess, not flattering his thin physique, but despite it all there’s fiery spirit in his eyes, comparing to all the broken souls outside. 

“I’m inspector Levi Ackerman. The man behind me is sergeant Jean Kirstein,” he walks closer to the bars where the teen is still standing. His clothes are more looking like rags and less presentable than the ones the other boys were wearing. Obviously he was not meant for customers, but for private usage of the man responsible for this disgusting den. Unfortunately the man was not present today to receive his punishment for the horror he has caused and supported.

“We are going to get you out now. Do you know where the keys to this place are?” he takes another step closer to the trapped boy. Their eyes meet and it’s a fire starting exchange of glances, which said more than the it seemed at first. Despite his fighting spirit, he might have been the most broken of them all. His hands clenching onto the bars just to keep them from shaking, his breathing rapid and heart beating fast. 

“He carries the keys with him,” Eren replies and even though he keeps a strong facade, his voice trembles in despair and it’s a far too well known feeling - when a strong exterior hid fears no one needed to see.

“Don’t worry,” Levi speaks calmly, “Step as far away from the bars as you can, cover your ears and close your eyes,” he instructs and ignores Jean panicking at the dangers of shooting at a metal lock. Eren nods and quickly moves to the furthest corner of his little living space, if one could call it like that. He squats down in a corner and places his hands over his ears, his large teal eyes locked with Levi the whole time as the inspector pulls out his gun again. The latter nods once as he aims at the lock and Eren squeezes his eyes shut.

Three shots echoed around the small room, one of the bullets ricocheting into the wall behind Levi, but the barred door falls open. He puts his gun away and pulls his gloves off as he walks over the carpeted floor. He squats in front of the boy who still has his hands over his ears and eyes tightly shut and gently places his hand on the boys head. The latter jumps, his eyes popping open and meeting Levi’s the very moment. 

“Let’s go, Eren,” he speaks as the teen lowers his hands. There’s a nod in response and Eren takes Levi’s offered hand to stand up. However he doesn’t let it go afterwards, clinging onto it with all the strength he has. Levi doesn’t shake him off. He guides the bare-footed boy, who now seems smaller and weaker, through the hallways. He seems responsive enough to assume he is not currently drugged and as the main culprit was not here, he probably wasn’t abused in the past 12 hours as well, yet the first destination he takes the boy to is the paramedics car.

There are two of the medics cars at the scene now. The boys that have been checked and given initial treatment are being divided into groups - those who needed to go to a hospital and those who will be taken to a temporary home. However the division begins a mess. The older boys are unwilling to let the younger ones to go anywhere alone and most of the smaller ones cling onto them, refusing to oblige. Their concern and fear is understandable, yet they cannot fight back the system, which has unfortunately failed them once already. Most are separated by strength, some are impossible to tear apart and they are taken somewhere in pairs and groups of three. The blond boy that told about Eren is still together with the green eyed boy and the smaller one he was holding. It’s obvious they won’t let anyone to separate them and Levi decides upon not interfering. 

“Check him,” he speaks dryly to the medics as he stops at the open back of their car. He is about to hand Eren over and leave, but the teen is not letting him go. He still clings onto Levi’s hand with both of his and even though he should, Levi can’t shake him off.

“Inspector Ackerman,” a female voice speaks next to Levi and he turns to the speaker. A petite woman with ginger hair and hazel eyes, a bunch of papers in her short arms, stands there with the softest, most obnoxious all-knowing smile. An older man with a ridiculously modern duo-color undercut stands behind her, his face reading nothing more but disgust as he sees Levi.

“Petra, when will we be able to question them?” inspector skips all the polite phrases and asks in a straightforward manner. His hand is still trapped in Eren’s but he doesn’t allow it to bother him.

“I think we should give them a up to a week to calm down. They are all scared and in state of shock, you must know that,” she speaks overly softly, borderline annoyingly and looks at Eren, who looks away instantly.

“We can’t wait a week. Four days maximum,” Levi replies coldly, but receives only the same condescending smile in return. 

“Now, Levi, I know you want to move this horrible case forward, but you won’t get any useful information from them, unless you allow them to feel safe. A week is minimum they need,” she insists and Levi clearly remembers why she was the worst social worker to have, her Frankenstein looking assistant being only an added bonus.

“Fine. One week,” he near scoffs, not wanting to carry out this useless debate any more. “After that we will interrogate them one by one.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Petra replies and turns her attention to Eren, who has been checked by the medics, yet he hasn’t moved an inch, still tightly holding onto Levi. “Now, if you’re looked at, let’s go to the bus and go to somewhere nice and…”

“No!” Eren shouts, anger evident in his voice. “I will never trust any of you ever again,” he spits out and clings to Levi’s hand and wrist, hiding his taller frame behind the inspectors. “I will never go with you anywhere,” he adds and for once Levi sees the ‘professional psychologist’ Petra in a shocked state. 

“Now,” she almost drops her smile, but somehow manages to keep it together, “inspector Ackerman has a lot of work to do. You don’t have to be afraid, because…”

“Nothing bad will happen to me? Lies!” he interrupts Petra again and the older man behind her steps forward.

“Listen kid,” he begins in a raspy voice, that most definitely belongs to a smoker, “we know what’s the best for you right now, so you should come with us. Clinging to this one won’t help,” he reaches out his hand past Levi, offering to Eren, but the teen near snarls at it and just holds on to Levi stronger. The other two might not see or understand, but Levi literally feels the despair radiating from Eren’s fingertips.

“Obviously, he does not trust social services. I don’t need a degree to tell that,” Levi does his best to not sound like a winner in such situation - when someone undeniably desperate and frightened clings onto him - but he can’t help it, his own dislike towards the useless workers of the service coming through his words. 

“As an investigator I can take a witness under my protection. He will be safer with me than in those cramped social houses,” admittedly Levi is surprised about his own words. He was a lone wolf - having guests was nuisance let alone letting anyone stay with him - but there was something scolding, dire and needy pulsating in Eren’s fingertips. It was a feeling Levi knew, a feeling he recognized and it won over his need of solitude.

“With you? You have to me joking me, Ackerman,” the man scoffs and towers over the inspector, yet the latter doesn’t budge a single bit. Instead he grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and pulls him down.

“If you don’t want to have your ass handed to you right here and right now, I suggest you to keep your mouth shut, Oluo,” inspector near growls through clenched teeth and even though the taller man tries to keep his cool, there is evident fear in his face. 

“That’s enough!” Petra finally steps in. “This boy currently has chosen Levi as someone he trusts and in such fragile mental state, it would be against the child's interests to pull him away. I believe the witness protection protocols from your side will be enough for now,” the smile has fallen from her face and she finally sounded like a true professional. She would be much more respected if not her thick-headed guard dog and her attempts to always be the nice and calm one.

“I do hope you won’t attack him with questions right away,” she adds before turning around, it being clear she didn’t like losing a small battle like this. Oluo follows her after last scuff at Levi to which he receives no response. 

The doors of the club are shut. Yellow tape covering the windows and all exits as well as the perimeter. It’s sealed shut mere hours after the raid begun - all documents, all devices taken to the station, forensics taking all biological evidence with them in disgusting amounts. The kids have been taken either to temporary home or to hospital, the seven bastards all are at the temporary cells at the station. Paramedics left a while ago and as time nears 2AM only three unmarked cars are left at the scene.

“It has been a rough night. We will start tomorrow with interrogating those scums and then go into analysing their documents,” Levi spoke to sergeants Jean Kirstein and Marco Bott and officers Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover. Their vests and helmets are loaded in the trunks of their cars, all of them standing next to Levi’s Land Cruiser. “Our reports must be ready for noon, when chief inspector will want to hear all the details.” he added and looked at Jean.

“I would be at our best interests to keep our personal emotions at minimum. This is our job and if the numbers we saw in some of the files are correct, our skin will have to become even tougher as more such dens are hidden in Kabukicho,” he spoke with authority but not in condescending way. His eyes traveled to Eren through the open drivers door. The teen had finally agreed to let go of Levi’s hand and now was wrapped in a blanket, sitting in the passenger seat of Levi’s car.

“Unraveling this net of human traffickers will be tough, but it must be done and the sooner the better,” he adds. “Now, head home and rest. It’s an order,” he salutes, the four men before him returning the gesture before they head to their cars. 

All four of them, including inspector Levi and chief inspector Erwin Smith were the core of Kabukichos police force. It was an understatement to say they were not loved by the criminals and other police stations alike. A handful of mixed people, flaunting their foreign assets more than their Japanese ones, however providing results beyond expectations. That alone gained respect from the civilians and even though there were various rumors in the police force about all of them, the support of the citizens was enough.

Levi waits for other two cars to depart before he gets into his own. He reaches over to the teen, who jumps a little, and pulls the seatbelt over him, buckling him in. Those large teal eyes follow Levi’s each movement even when he puts on his own seatbelt. They don’t look away as Levi starts the car and turns the steering wheel. It feels as if a small child is observing a fascinating new mechanism working for the first time. His eyes follow each turn, each shift of the gear, they even sync with Levis eyes on the road and in the mirrors.

“I believe the view behind the window is a bit more interesting,” Levi points out, his voice coming out a bit too rough, a bit too angry, but Eren doesn’t seem to be bothered and turns his piercing eyes to the flashing city lights behind the tinted window. Cars going by, the bright signs of late night cafes and eateries, lone people still walking around in this dark hour. It’s a whole new world, a world Eren has been cut out of for who knows how long and now he was seeing it as if for the first time.

“I will open the window,” Levi warns and Eren just nods. The cool night air enters the interior of the car and starts playing in Eren’s long hair. The teen rests his hands on the edge of the door, letting the wind hit his face and taking in the nighttime Tokyo they are driving through. 

The car ride is no longer than 20 minutes and they pull into and underground parking lot. The window closes, but Eren’s eyes still travel around the new environment. Now they are more fearful, as the yellow light lit space is a clear reminder of the small space he was held in just mere hours earlier. 

Levi gets out first and walks to the other side of the car, opening the door and making the teen jump. “Let’s go,” he says simply undoing Eren’s seatbelt. He waits for the boy to get out of the car before he closes the door with a thud and activates the alarm system. The moment his hand is free of the car keys an already familiar touch reaches for him - Eren’s hands grabbing onto his. He looks at the almost too childish act but he says nothing and leads the way to the elevator. 

It’s a nerve wrecking ride for Eren, his grip on Levi becoming significantly stronger the moment the doors close and relaxing only when they got out on the 7th floor. 

“I need my hand to unlock the door,” Levi points out and even though Eren let’s go of his hand, he grabs onto his shirt as if he could get lost in a crowd, even though they were standing in an empty hallway in an apartment complex at 3AM. Still clinging onto the inspectors shirt he walks into the apartment, yet let's go as he sees Levi kicking off his shoes and neatly putting them aside in the shoe cupboard before stepping into slippers. He looks down at his own bare feet with almost adorable, almost sad confusion on his face.

“We need to get you in the shower,” Levi speaks “I think I must have some clothes that will fit you,” he continues and this time it’s him that takes Eren’s hand and guides him in. He leads him through a conjoined livingroom and kitchen space, a counter dividing the two. There’s a couch in front of a window, however there is no TV, but an impressive bookshelf next to the wall. A few houseplants, yet no pictures on the walls or on the shelves. 

The door that leads to the bathroom is next to the door that probably is the bedroom. In an odd way the bathroom seems a bit more equipped, as there is a bathtub and a shower, but it’s instantly noticeable how sparkly clean everything is, almost as if it’s a model home and not an actual place where someone lives.

“I don’t want to offend you, but will you need my help?” Levi speaks and Eren’s wandering eyes stop at him. The teen finally takes in the man standing before him. 

His facial features did not reveal his age as he could be as young as his twenties and as old as his early thirties, the dark circles under his winter grey eyes not helping the mystery. He was good 10cm shorter than Eren, yet his shoulders were broad and strong - his whole build sturdy and athletic - and he radiated pride and absolute confidence. His hair was pitch black, falling into two arches on top of his head over a clean undercut. Light stubble seemed to appear in a shadow where a clean shave was supposed to be. Despite the expressionless features, he was a handsome man and his attitude enhanced it.

“No, I can take care of myself,” Eren shook his head as Levi took the blanket from his shoulders and threw into the dirty laundry basket. The inspector moved past the teen as he spoke and placed a towel and a robe on the edge of the tub, a toothbrush from a cupboard on the sink. 

“Good. Feel free to take your time,” the shorter man didn’t even question Eren’s reply. “You can lock the door after me if that will make you feel safer,” he added before leaving the bathroom. 

Levi’s inner clean freak was stressing at the dirty footprints on the floor or the poor state of the boys cleanliness in general, but the image of that cage where he was kept pushed all these ridiculously judgmental thoughts away. It looked like a solitary prison cell - a bed, a toilet, a small sink, a small table and a useless rug - and yet the boy had managed to keep himself at some sort of presentable state. What kind of pleasure did the man holding him there get from such behavior?

“Humans are disgusting,” Levi uttered under his breath as he made the couch into a bed - tossing a sheet, fresh blanket and few pillows on it. Somewhere in his closet he found a tracksuit he had received as gift but didn’t wear as it was two sizes too big and placed it on the makeshift bed along with longest t-shirt he owned. Sharing clothes was not a concept he approved off, but yet again this was not the time to judge.

He quickly washed the floor from bathroom to the door, his cleanliness quirk taking the best of him, and put together a sandwich and some fruit, as the teen was most probably starving. Only then did he notice that his young guest hadn’t left the bathroom for almost 40 minutes.

The water in the shower was still running, that was loud and clear, however the sobs coming from behind the door were as clear. Levi let out a long exhale before knocking on the door gently.

“One shower won’t wash that feeling away,” he spoke through the door. “I can’t say I understand the feeling, but I know no matter how much soap will you use or how many liters of water will fall over your head, no matter how hard you will scrub your skin, it won’t go away,” he heard another choked sob and his hand instinctively went to the door handle, but he held back from turning it. 

“Take your time, if you think you need it,” the raven-hair added before taking a step away from the door and returning to the kitchen space. He filled his trusty kettle with water and placed it on the stove, pulling two mugs from one cupboard and two tins of tea from another. When the kettle began to whistle the bathroom door opened and Eren finally came out. 

His long hair was dripping wet, the robe a bit too short and barely reaching his knees. His neck and chest were obviously red as well as his forearms and probably more under the fabric, as he had tried to scrub off all the filth he felt in levels deeper than skin and muscles. His eyes were red and puffy and no genius was needed to understand this boy who tried be strong had broken down.

“I found something you could wear,” Levi didn’t comment on the teens state and just nodded towards the couch. It seemed that Eren was in a daze, forgetting Levi was right there, as he took the robe off and began dressing right there. It was no staring matter - his frame too lean, borderline skinny, with older and newer scars and bruises on his back and the back of his thighs, most made more vibrant by his own effort to scrub himself clean from everything he had gone through. 

Levi’s grip around the handle of the kettle tightened as he turned to the two mugs and poured scalding hot water over tea leafs, letting them swirl and dance. He placed the mugs on the counter next to the very late snack. Eren was making his way across the room, the tracksuit fitting him lengthwise but sagging due to his thin frame, making him look a bit awkward and odd. He propped up on of the high stools and Levi pushed one of the mugs towards him - white and purple flowers swirling in the hot water, filling the air with a pleasant scent.

“I assume you’re hungry. Eat this,” he pushed the plate with a simple bacon sandwich and few cut fruits closer to Eren, “And have some tea. It’s chamomile with catnip and passionflower. It will help you calm down and sleep better,” he explained and took his own mug in his hands as he leaned against the kitchen work space. He observed quietly how Eren first hesitated to reach for the offered food, but after the first bite devoured it mere seconds.

It was an absolute lack of class as he pushed the fruit in his mouth, but his hunger won over the timidness and politeness, quite possible the latter being a very foreign thing for him. He slows down only when his slightly trembling hands touch the hot mug. Carefully he pulls it closer and takes a deep breath of the brewing tea, his eyes falling shut for a moment - long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks - before he focuses on the slowly floating petals.

“You can ask, if you want,” he says almost too softly, his hands resting on the mug and absorbing its warmth. There are wet lines on shoulders of the tracksuit jacket from his still damp hair, his eyes tired, yet a bit more calm than they were before.

“What do you think I want to ask?” Levi takes a sip from his white tea mix. He did have questions he wanted to know, however he wanted to respect at least his own set boundaries of four days before asking them. Beside, he wanted to interrogate Eren only once. The teen didn’t have to live through those memories more than necessary. 

“About why I don’t trust social workers,” Eren replies and takes the first sip of the hot brew. A shiver runs through him, but he takes another sip right after, before adding: “That’s why I am here.”

“If you want to tell me, you can, but I am not forcing you to do so,” comes a very simple reply. Something is telling Levi that Eren wants to tell it himself. Something else screams at the back of Levi’s head he should stop Eren from talking about that and tell the boy to go to sleep. However he decides to keep silent, letting Eren to make the decision of sharing his clearly not pleasant experience or not.

“When I was around 13, my mom passed away and because my dad or any other relatives were nowhere to be found, I got sent to a foster home,” Eren speaks slowly and quietly, his eyes focusing on the mug in his hands, which he turns a bit, making the petals in it dance again. “I didn’t spent more than a month in that home when they sent me somewhere else - to the man that owns that place,” his grip on the mug tightens and his hands shake as he lifts it up to take a sip.

“I don’t know his name and I must admit I never truly looked at his face. I was either crying, drugged or just too indifferent at the end. I could recognize him if I saw him, but I can’t describe him even after all these years,” he pushes the words over his lips and Levi wants to stop him, but this seems to be one of the times when letting it all out was the only way for Eren to gain some sort of peace.

“It might seem that it wasn’t the social workers to blame, but more kids arrived at that place year after year with the same story - they got sent to a home where no one cared, no social worker came to check on them and soon after they were sent away,” his voice was becoming more choked up and even the tea he continued to drink didn’t help to swallow back the lump in his throat. 

“None of them care what happens to the kids they sent away. They just put a stamp in their books that they are under good care now and forget about it,” his hands began to shake in anger and pain, his eyes tearing up. “Screw me, I wasn’t needed by anyone to begin with, but why they didn’t give a damn about others,” he pushes through clenched teeth, first tears falling on the marble counter. “All those kids they ended up moving away from there because they…” he finally chokes up completely and Levi has to put away his own mug before he breaks it, his knuckles white from holding it.

He told Jean that this case shouldn’t be taken personally, however it already started to seem even he will have difficulties to control his emotions. The inspector reaches over and takes the empty mug from Eren’s shaking hands and places it in the sink. 

Eren clenches his hands together trying to keep them still, his hot tears falling on them. The teens knuckles turn ghostly white and he bites his lower lip to at least keep the sobs in and it’s evident he had been holding up bravely for far too long. Each tear that rolls over his cheeks and down his chin is bigger than the previous and carries more yet unspoken pain with it and no heart - no matter how cold and distant - could look at it with no emotions.

It’s a brave move for Levi, but he puts his hand on Eren’s shaking ones. The boys tears now hit his skin and the helplessness he had felt and still feels along with fear and regrets pour over the edges. “Eren,” Levi tries to speak softly even though he knows the way it comes out is too rough at times, even when he doesn’t intend it to. “I can promise to you two things: we will catch every single scumbag who is involved in this,” he squeezes the teens hands tighter, “and I will personally make sure you won’t have to go through such hell ever again,” the last one is a crazy promise - unbelievable even, coming from Levi’s mouth - but those are the right words to say. Somewhere deep inside, behind all the walls he has constructed around his heart, he knows it’s the truth - a promise he will keep.

“Now, I think you should sleep,” he adds and Eren nods. He stands up and pulls his hands out of Levi’s grip before rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He is almost like a small child trapped in a tormented body of a teen, trying to control the tall limbs and emotions strong enough to destroy everything around them with the pewny strength of a child. Eren clearly couldn’t control or fix himself now when there were no bars restraining him.

Levi doesn’t force any more words or actions on the taller one and silently walks to the window, pulling the curtains shut. He turns on a reading lamp next to the couch on dim setting, the whole area sinking in a golden honey light. When he moves to the main light switch to turn off the light in the kitchen and living room Eren finally moves to the couch, sitting down on it. His hands are still shaking and that seems as a permanent condition of fear and stress for now which can’t be helped. Remembering the bruises and scars it might be a nerve damage and Levi notes to himself that should be checked. 

“I will take a shower and then head to sleep as well. My bedroom door will be unlocked, in case you will need me,” the raven-hair informs and Eren just nods. A voice at the back of Levi’s head tells him he should have stopped Eren from sharing even a small part of the hell he has been through, however a part of him still believes it was for the best.

He goes to the bedroom just for a minute, but when he returns Eren is already under the blanket, the tracksuit jacket resting on the edge of the couch. There is an urge to remind him he should have dried his hair more properly, but Levi keeps it to himself. 

His own shower this time takes longer than usually. It had been a while since he had felt so much anger and disgust boiling inside of him along with determination. It was an overwhelming feeling and a motivating one at the same time, yet he understood the helplessness that chad came over Jean at the scene. 

“Damn it,” he curses under his breath and turns the water cold, letting it flow over his face for a minute before getting out of the shower. He dries himself off and ruffles his hair with a towel rather than blow-drying it. He wasn't going to sleep for longer than few hours anyway, so he could deal with that later on.

The living room is completely silent when he exits the bathroom. Quietly, he walks around the couch and for some reason there is a sting in his heart at the sight. Eren is curled up in one corner of the couch, pillow hugged against his chest rather than under his head, and blanket just barely over him.

It’s a reflex, an action Levi can’t control, but he moves forward and pulls the blanket more over the sleeping boy. He turns the light almost completely off, leaving just the slightest tint of amber like light warming up the room, before going to the bedroom. He leaves a gap in the door for a reason he can’t explain, something similar to an instinct, something similar to a very distant memory telling him to do so. He gets under the blankets himself with the oddest feeling in his chest and a promise he has made lingering in his head - to keep Eren safe from now on.


	2. ~~ II ~~

Eren’s eyelids feel heavy and swollen as he tries to open his eyes. It’s not a strange feeling as he had cried before falling asleep before and more than once at that, however this time it feels different - it feels relieving to have this weight on his eyes. It was the oddest sensation and he couldn’t explain as he couldn’t define the warmth surrounding him.

He was too used to the bone-biting cold and dreariness of that windowless room he had been thrown into months ago. The blue light piercing his eyes no longer seemed odd and the always cold water coming from the tap was something he had grown accustomed to. But now everything felt warm and soft around him, the scent of flowers he didn’t know the name of wrapping around him like a thick, yet pleasant autumn fog.

No matter how ridiculous or sad it seemed, his first thought was that he had finally died. Either he tried to escape and he was thrown against the wall too hard, his head splitting open and no one caring enough to get him to a doctor. Perhaps the drug they used was shot into his veins in a dose too big or far too many pills were forced down his throat. Perchance this time it was liqueur poured over his lips - his jaw held open and swallowing the only option over drowning. Maybe he decided to drown instead this time? Or maybe he was killed on purpose as he was too old and useless, too rebellious and wild to be used for anything. It might as well be that he had found his end in the cell even rats avoided.

Fearfully, the teen opened his eyes and blinked a few times, shapes and colors unknown to him appearing before them. Most probably a window was hiding behind a set of large, thick rust color curtains with no pattern reaching from near the very ceiling to the very ground. A bookshelf taking up half of the wall, filled to the brim on the left to the couch Eren was on - a coffee table of dark wood in front of him, magazines neatly stocked on its bottom shelf.

Has he been sold? Has he been taken away by someone? Or maybe he was dreaming still? 

Everything seemed foggy around Eren suddenly, his head dizzy, yet he forced his body to stand up. Through his clouded vision he sees the counter a bit further away and a kitchen area behind it. He sees a mug on the marble surface and a plate with what looks like fruit and vegetables on it next to it. There are no photos  or paintings on the classically beige walls, no figurines or little trinkets brought home from travels on the shelves where the books stood proudly - side by side - like paper soldiers. Where on earth was he?

The teens rub his face with his palms and sits back down on the cream colored sofa. Only now he notices the navy blue sweatpants he’s wearing and the t-shirt that’s sagging over his skinny frame. Everything around him is wrapped in unusual warmth that somehow feels a bit distant and too formal, layered with soft scent of flowers and contrasting with a scent earthy and fresh. 

It takes the utmost concentration from him to finally force memories from last night return to him. He is back in the cold, dreary cell, praying either for a miracle or death, even though he long didn’t believe in any god. Eren remembers hearing gunshots and jumping up from his bed, if one could call it like that. His hands wrap around the cold metal bars and he looks into darkness beyond the blue lights. He can hear people talking and moving, but can’t see who they are.

“Eren?” a voice he has never heard - deep and a bit raspy, yet pleasant to the ears - calls his name and at first he can’t even reply, just a gasp falling from this lips. “Eren, is that you?” the voice speaks again and now Eren replies. 

His memory wawers and goes dark as he vaguely recalls hearing more gunshots, a rough yet gentle hand touching his head two winter grey eyes looking at him. His hands remember the warmth of another hand holding his, feeling skin both rough and soft at the same time, the raw strength flowing from those fingertips into his through his frozen muscles. It’s what makes his feet to move, his lungs to to work when he steps into the cold night air - the fortitude from those rough hands entering his body through the touch. He needs more off it and he doesn’t let go of those hands as he fears he might fall back into the hell pit he was just dragged out of he if he would.

Through his own clouded mind, a big part of the events missing, he remembers the air of the night hitting his face through an open window of a car rushing through the empty streets. He remembers hot water pouring over his tormented body later on and even hotter tears rolling over his cheeks - it all disappearing in a swirling dance of white and purple flowers in a dark green mug.

The scene slowly glues together in his head and he remembers an expressionless face that somehow seemed more sincere than any of the ones he had seen before. He remembers those icy grey, slightly blue eyes and the dark circles under them, all framed by raven black hair. It all comes together slowly like a thousand piece puzzle until he puts sounds, faces and scents together.

“Inspector Levi Ackerman,” he says the man’s name slowly, hearing his voice jumping around the room. He was saved yesterday by the man along with all of those poor soul that were trapped in that hell with him. Now he was at the man’s home, the horror of once more trusting social services behind him, all drowned in herbal tea and soft sheets, giving this odd feeling of security.

Eren stands up again, this time actually moving away from the couch. He walks to the window and opens the thick curtains wincing at the brightness, daylight entering the room and chasing away sleepy shadows lurking in the corners. There are no clocks on the walls either, so he is not sure what time it is, but the sun is high in the sky and shining bright over the city. His eyes go around the room - from the minimal furniture and few house plants to the two doors next to each other, one of which he assumes or rather remembers is the bathroom. 

The teen almost walks into the counter mid-room, his eyes still wandering on the empty walls, yet manages to notice it on time. Along the mug and the plate of food there is a phone and a note on the almost reflective marble surface - scrubbed clean to perfection. He picks up the note, however it takes a moment for him to grasp the letters on the note, but he pieces it together in few minutes.

 

“ _ Good morning. I have left to the station early and I assumed waking you up after such stressful events would not be the best thing to do. Feel free to eat, take a shower and rest some more. I will return late, so you are not obliged to wait for me by any means.  _

_ P.S there are two numbers on speed dial of the phone. #1 is the station while #2 is my personal phone. I might be unable to answer, but someone at the station will.  _

_ P.P.S the tea tastes as good cold as it does warm. _

_ -Levi _ ”

 

The handwriting is almost too neat and calligraphic so it makes the reading of the note both easy and difficult at the same time. Eren does get the gist of it and places the paper back on the counter, reaching for the phone. White numbers showing 2:45 on the display indicate the time and he doesn’t exactly know for long he has slept, but it seems it has been quite a while.

The next 30 minutes he spends devouring the plate of vegies and fruit left for him and emptying the mug of cold tea, which actually tastes good, but he can’t pinpoint the taste and this time there are no flowers swirling in it. Vaguely he remembers Levi placing the empty mugs in the sink last night and he does the same with the plate and the mug this time too. 

It’s not exactly hunger that drives him to do this, but more curiosity, as he peeks into the near empty fridge and checks the cupboards with mugs, plates, bowls, tins and cartons of tea hiding behind dark wood doors. He opens drawers one by one - both forks and chopsticks lining in some along with spoons and knives, others hiding clips, note paper the small letter he found was written on and other trinkets needed in the kitchen.

His curiosity might be too strong, perhaps he feels a bit too safe, but he peeks through the door that leads to the inspectors bedroom. It’s all in faded brown and grey tones and even though it should feel cold, it feels even warmer and more pleasant than the lighter colored living room. Perhaps it’s because the earthy scent is stronger in this room.

The bed is probably the biggest Eren has seen in his life, yet not being too grand or obscure and he had to admit it looked very inviting. None of the ones in the hell he came from counted for beds as they were torture racks for him and so many others. There is a wardrobe next to the wall, a nightstand next to the bed with a stack of books and a lamp on it. From the corner of his eyes he notices two barbells in the corner next to the window, however Eren doesn’t even dare to step over the doorstep to look more at the room, despite how inviting it seemed. He closes the door and walks into the room nextdoor. 

His skin is itching for some sort of cleansing and he follows the suggestion on the note. A long, near scalding shower later with futile attempts to scrub himself clean, he gives up and turns the water off. The feeling of dirt so deeply engraved into his skin it seems he will never be able to get rid of it, but it would be a lie if he would say he wouldn’t try again and again to scrub it off.

His hair is still dripping wet when Eren finally takes his time to walk aroun the large room. Everything is perfectly clean - not a speckle of dust anywhere. Even the leaves of the plants are shiny green and vivid and not covered with thin layer of grey. Eren has not got a slightest clue what these leafy bushes in light grey ceramic pots are, but they seem to be sprouting white flowers and oddly yet sadly are the first real plants he has seen in awhile. 

He walks past the small hallway with umbrellas neatly in their stands, jackets and shoes hidden in a wall-closet and a cupboard, and walks back to the couch. His hands move on their own when he folds the blanket, the sheet and stacks it all in the corner of the couch with pillow on top. Making his bed in his personal prison was one of the rare things he bothered to do, feeling even a bit in control of his life and a reminder of the near only two words he remembered hearing every morning from his mother years back.

Where he stops his investigations for the day and remains sitting on the floor till the night embraces the city is the bookshelf. He starts looking at the spines of the books and quickly realizing there are languages in this shelf he cannot read at all. The teen recognizes one as English, but that’s about as far as he gets with it. He can piece together some words, but he real content of these books remains a mystery. The other language he does not recognize looks very similar to English, however he can’t make out even a word and what’s hidden behind them. A print on the bottom of the spine of one these says “Paris, 1987*” and Eren assumes those books might be in French.

The shelves in Japanese are something more understandable for him, however it has been quite a while since he has last read something and his head feels a mess, however he pulls out a book titled “Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman**” and begins slowly going through each page. There are no illustrations, no explanations, however it consists of several short stories and Eren has a determination to get through at least one.

He moves from the spot on the floor only when it gets too dark even for his eyes, that had adjust to darkness more than light, to see the letters and sits in the corner of the couch where had woken up earlier that day, turning on the lamp next to him and giving all his attention to the black letters on the white background.

Eren had to admit he didn’t remember much about himself before he was thrown into hell, but he was sure he was fond of books. He wasn’t sure where they flashy American comics or detailed mangas, perhaps light-novels or story collections, but he remembers his then small hands holding the black and white printed pieces of paper and eagerly reading. Few years before his life shattered in million pieces he no longer enjoyed the feeling of paper in his hands. He remembered that as clearly as holding the books before. Now he wasn’t sure where his feelings were as he wasn’t sure about where will his life head as near as next day. However the letter jumping on the paper from row to row made his mind focus on their dance - forming ords as intricate dance patterns - more than terrifying memories and dark ideas of the future.

The sound of door code being punched it and key turning startled him and he jumped up from the couch immediately. He heard rustling of bags and the sound of the shoe cupboard opening and closing. The lights in the room turned on, a hand reaching around the corner to switch them on. 

“So you indeed weren’t sleeping,” Levi’s voice goes through the air and Eren breathes out in relief.  He didn’t even notice he had held his breathe or that he was suddenly afraid, but hearing that voice made his heart beat normally and lungs desire air.

The man, who was somehow shorter than Eren, walked over to the kitchen space with two bags in his hands. He placed one of them on the floor and the other on the counter. His piercing eyes looked at Eren and the teen held his breathe again, but this time not in fear - in anticipation rather.

“Put the book down and come here,” the inspector said, his voice a bit harsh, a bit authoritative, but it seemed he was trying his very best to control the way he was speaking. After being shouted at or cooed with fake sweetness coming from mouths of disgusting men the tone the raven-haired man used was the best Eren could imagine or ask for simply because it was real.

Eren placed the book on the coffee table and walked to the counter. He observed different foods and lunch boxes being placed in the fridge, all but one lunch set and a small round container of sweet vanilla pudding. 

“Convenience store food is not the best for you, but I unfortunately can’t cook for you on weekdays,” Levi explained while filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove. “However you need to eat and looking at all the offers I assumed this one could be the best option nutrition wise,” he added almost too formally, his eyes settling on the mug and plate in the sink. 

It was as if he was moving automatically when he turned the faucet on, grabbed a dish-sponge from it’s place and quickly but thoroughly scrubbed the two items. His movements seemed irrationally fluid, almost like a amazingly choreographed dance, yet he was just washing the dishes. Not a single drip of water landed on the floor or the kitchen top as he reached for the towel and that was fascinating, mesmerising even. Or maybe Eren had just forgotten how such simple human actions looked.

The oddly enchanting dance continued when Levi reached from cupboard to cupboard getting fresh mugs and the same two cans of tea he had out yesterday. He didn’t even measure the amount when he sprinkles tea leaves and flower petals in the mugs, his eyes giving him all the expertise he needs, the simple routine looking like a perfect clockwork mechanism made the older man move and not his own muscles. Like a fancy doll. Indeed, he moved like a fancy windup doll with the most precise movements. 

The kettle whistles and seconds later the space around them fills with a scent now familiar to Eren’s nose. A mug is placed before him - white and purple flowers swirling in the hot water - and it already feels like a calming routine he would love to get used to.

“You probably didn’t eat anything apart from what I had left in the morning, so you should eat now,” Levi encourages him and places chopsticks and a spoon next to the bento box. He himself leans back against the kitchen top as he had done yesterday, the hot mug in his hands.

Eren suddenly feels hunger he had ignored throughout the day, as he had done most of the time before, and launches at the food. He sloppily downs the rice and egg rolls along with pickled vegetables and only when he catches Levi looking at him - one eyebrow raised in question - he slows down. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs - mouth full of rice - and looks down at the messy tray of food, some of it on the previously impeccably clean counter. “I will clean it up,” he ads, swallowing the mouthful and Levi looks at the few grains of rice and then at Eren’s face before as if absentmindedly looking somewhere in the distance.  

“As long as you clean it up, it’s okay,” Levi speaks and it seems he is actually forcing the words out through clenched teeth, his grip on the mug handle too tight to be normal. Eren had already observed the immaculate cleanliness earlier so it made sense the man did not tolerate any kind of mess. 

The rest of the meal Eren pays extra attention to his own behaviour - not a single grain of rice falling on the marble surface. When the box is empty he stands up himself and walks around the counter. Remembering his own exploration of the cupboards he remembers the trash-cans under the sink. He however stops at the multi colored bags confusing him.

“Red,” Levi says casually, taking a sip from his mug. He seems to be observing how Eren moves his now empty mug and utensils to the sink and when the boy washes them, it is very clear the older man wants to say something, but he opts for keeping it to himself. He doesn’t say a word when Eren knows exactly where smaller spoons are in the many drawers as there is something endearing about the boy trying to do all the right things, even though he has no clue what they are. As endearing it’s also sad, especially when the Levi remembers what the arrested men had revealed the things they have done, the thing the ‘clients’ have done and what happened to the boys who were deemed useless.

Levi squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath of the calming aroma that radiates from his mug and looks at the teen. There’s such innocent gleam, such simple sparkle of joy in his teal eyes as he slowly downs the pudding - spoon by spoon - savoring each bite. How could anyone harm or ridicule such innocence just for sick, twisted pleasure?

“Do you like things like that?” Levi asks and Eren looks up from the plastic container with one last spoonful at the very bottom of it. There is a nod and a very light, barely there smile on his lips. Oddly enough it makes Levi even angrier. Not at the boy, not at all. Rather at those who had erased the smile from his face and from hearts of so many others. 

Very rarely did Levi got this twisting and turning, gut wrenching and raw rage fueled feeling in his stomach. To be exact he had had it only once before, but now not only Eren, but all those faces he saw in the piles of files they collected clouded his senses. After all the horror he had seen, after all the bloodbaths he had lived through, this was the lowest he had seen humans go. And it just added to the many reasons why he associated with them as little as possible.

“I think the last time I had this was when I was very little. 10 years old, maybe,” he talks and joy from his eyes fades into sadness and the boiling and bubbling anger inside Levi gets louder. It’s a silly thing - a sweet declined for a young boy, a teen later on - but on top of everything else it seems incredibly unfair.

“No that sweets are any good for me anyway, right?” Eren asks as if joking, as if being serious before standing up and taking the plastic container to the trash, looking at the three bags with confusion again.

“Green,” Levi says and once more observes the teen. He washes the spoon almost too thoroughly and if Levi wouldn’t know better he would think he is being mocked by the boy. 

It’s an interesting sight to look at Eren deciding between the sponge and small towel next to the sink for cleaning the counter. He opts for combo of both - first sponge and then the towel - to gain the best result of once more sparkly surface. Once more it could be a bit of poking fun at Levi’s habits if it would be anyone else, but Eren didn’t even know half of the older man’s quirks and pet peeves and in no way he would mock anyone. It just didn’t seem right for someone with those slightly sad eyes to do so.

“Thank you for the meal,” Eren bows a little with a very formal thank you coming from his lips. There’s a tint of pink on his cheeks and he seems a bit lost, the tousled mess on his head adding to the innocent and cute image, but at the same time actually annoying the living daylight out of Levi.

“Of course,” he replies a bit too casually, a bit too matter-of-factly, and regrets it, yet doesn’t address it and reaches for the bag he left on the floor. He lifts on the empty chair on the kitchen side of the counter and digs around the content before pulling out a comb and some simple black hairbands. 

“That mess on your head can’t continue,” he points out, once more sounding regrettably harsh, but it’s a lesson he never truly learned in his 34 years of life - you can’t take back or fix the words you say. However he wasn’t able to change the way he spoke, he could only alter it, tweak it a bit but most of the time it wasn’t enough.

“Thank you,” the teen replies rather shyly taking the items from the counter. It looks like he is seriously considering where to go with them, and even though on any other day Levi would appreciate the thoughtfulness of not having strands of hair on the floor, this is not the day. It would be ridiculous, inhuman to throw Eren from one extremely conditioned circumstances to other in a matter of day. Truth to be told Eren was setting these rules for himself at this moment, just by making observations, which showed he was a very clever young man, yet this was not the right time.

“You can do it here. Don’t worry so much,” Levi tries his best to sound casual and sincere as he turns to the kettle, the water in it already barely warm and requiring reheating. The sound of brush trying to break through a mane fills the air and after the first stroke it stops, Eren himself noticing the loud sound, but he restarts the motion after Levi says nothing. Only several painfully sounding hisses and grunts later, when the kettle is whistling again, does the comb land on the counter again. 

Levi fills two mugs with hot water, petals and leaves swirling in a mad, heated dance in them, and turns to the boy who now looks completely different. There’s light stubble on his jawline and chin, previously hidden by the shadow of the hair; his eyes seem even bigger, in a way brighter yet his cheeks definitely seem to lack some fullness to truly reveal the true potential of his features. It was however not debatable that he was a handsome, a beautiful young man, yet his exterior was layered with sadness and filth deeper than skin which would take months, if not years to wash off.

“Much better,” Levi says as a matter of fact and makes his way to the couch with both mugs in his hands. He places them on the edge of the coffee table before getting two coasters from the shelf, placing them on the dark surface and the steaming mugs on them. He sits on the cream color couch, sinking back in before taking the book Eren was reading in his hands. Meanwhile the boy has made to the couch as well and sat down an arm length away from Levi in front of one the mugs.

“Isn’t it a bit too difficult?” the inspector asks and the teen jumps a little but shakes his head in response right after. “Good. I don’t have anything easier to read, I think,” Levi continues and once more he realizes he sounds a bit too harsh only when the words have left his mouth already.

“It’s a lot easier than the books in English or that other language,” Eren admits looking at the bookshelf. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself with a wrongful guess, so he doesn’t identify the language.

“That language is French,” Levi takes a sip from his mug and Eren does the same, keeping the hot mug in his hands and letting the heat to seep through his hands. 

“I have never heard it even,” the teen looks at the leaves swirling in the hot water and he doesn’t even notice how Levi stands up from the couch and walks to the bookshelf. Eren registers the movement only when Levi takes a book from the shelf and sits down again. He has taken a thinner book from the many lined up and is now listing through the pages, his legs crossed, stern look on his face. 

He stops at a page, looks at it for a moment and then, for Eren’s surprise, begins speaking, no reading what seems a poem in a language the boy has never heard in his entire life. 

“* _ J'aime les soirs sereins et beaux, j'aime les soirs,  _

_ Soit qu'ils dorent le front des antiques manoirs  _

_ Ensevelis dans les feuillages ;  _

_ Soit que la brume au loin s'allonge en bancs de feu ;  _

_ Soit que mille rayons brisent dans un ciel bleu  _

_ A des archipels de nuages _ .”

His voice changes slightly - it gets a tone deeper and raspier and Eren can just stare at the man - his black hair perfectly arching over his forehead, winter grey eyes focused on the book, words flowing over his always tightly pressed lips. The teen can just stare - his mouth slightly hanging open - and admire the way the inspector's voice flows and fills the air around them, merging with the scent of tea in the air, molding together with that always present scent of flowers and the earthy freshness that radiates from Levi. 

What snaps Eren back to the reality is Levi closing the book with a light thud. He wants to ask for more - poetry, novels, encyclopedias - whatever was on that shelf in French, English or Japanese just to hear Levi’s voice more, to hide in the soothing timbre of his voice. Yett he keeps the request to himself.

“That’s how french sounds,” Levi stood up once more and placed the book back in the shelf. He pulled the rust-color curtains close and sat back down taking a larger sip from his tea.

“Was that a poem?” the teen finally speaks, placing the mug he was holding so tightly back on the coaster. 

“Yes. It’s called “A Sunset” by Victor Hugo. I prefer his novels, but his poems are decent too,” the man explains simply, his focus on his tea now. 

“What was is about?” Eren dares to ask and already is ready to take his question back when Levi looks at him - eyebrow raised in question once more - but before he disregards his own curiosity Levi speaks.

“As the title suggest it’s a glorification of the sunset and it’s beauty, the mystery the night that comes after brings,” the raven-hair emptied his mug and stood up once more, walking to the kitchen, and Eren rose up a bit in his seat to turn to the kitchenspace.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to glorify the sunrise rather than sunset?” he asks and Levi freezes for two seconds and turns to the teen. “Isn’t it better to feel joy from a new start and a new day rather than darkness that follows the departure of the sun?” Eren ads another question and the inspector can still just stare at him.

The older of the two might have underestimated Eren’s intellect. He recognized the teen as a clever observer, but he didn’t think after being trapped in such literal and figurative darkness he would present such deep thoughts. However, perhaps his fighting spirit that made him try to escape several times, as the interrogations showed, and his curious and observant nature were the things to thank for such philosophical questions.

“There are people who do not find comfort in the light of the day, but rather in the darkness of the night,” he replies and turns to the sink, seeing the boy getting up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen with the mug in his hands. “Being in the light not always means being safe and hopeful. Sometimes hiding under the stars and just waiting for that sunrise, even though it might never come, is what brings more joy,” he continues and takes the mug from Eren’s hands when he nears the sink.

“Waiting for a sunrise can be very painful,” the teen speaks almost too softly for Levi to hear. The latter turns the faucet off and wipes his hands before turning to the boy who was standing at the end of the counter, his eyes focusing on the floor in front of him. The tracksuit oddly sitting on his shoulders, everything about him awkward and odd from the baggy clothes to the messy ponytail. Everything about him silently begging for a way to put the nightmarish past far away.

“Every night has its end and after each starry sky comes a sunrise, as after each struggle comes a relief and after each painful wait comes a resolve,” Levi says as calmly, as casually as he can. He has never been good with consoling people and making them feel at ease, but he has a vague hope his attempts would be at least a little bit soothing for Eren.

Levi grabs the bag from the floor again, without saying anything else, as the gloom and past despair has thrown its veil over Eren’s features again, and starts putting items on the counter. There are a few t-shirts and some pants, two blazers and a hoodie, some underwear and a set of razors. The items do the trick of pulling Eren out of the darkness of his own thoughts and he turns his attention to them.

“One of my subordinates is around your height, so he brought some things you could wear,” Levi put all of the items in one neat pile, the comb and razors at the very top of it. “He is of a larger build, but you will gain some flesh on your bones,” he ads and hands the pile to Eren who stares at him with those mesmerizing seafoam colored eyes. 

“You seem to have noticed I like things to be a certain way, however don’t worry about small things too much. Take your time here a chance to restore your strength, at least a little bit. Feel like you’re at home,” Levi knows well enough his voice is very dry and borderline emotionless, but it’s easier to get sincere words over his lips like this. The less raw and strong emotions he involved the better for both him and Eren. Especially knowing how invested he already was.

“Home?” there’s a whisper from Eren and Levi realizes his mistake. The teen is clenching to the pile of items with shaking hands, his lower lip trembling, eyes watering and threatening to spill over the edges any second. The concept of home was something so distant for him and admittedly an apartment of a distant, clean-freak police inspector was not a place one could like it at all.

“Eren…” Levi dares to raise his hand to place it on the teens shoulder, yet before he manages to do so the watery teal eyes look right at him, not a single drop of tears escaping from them.

“Thank you,” Eren says loudly and sincerely. He is doing his very best to keep himself in some sort of order, not wanting to repeat the breakdown from last night. He was a strong, proud boy despite everything and perhaps this untamed strength, this fearless pride was the reason he had suffered so much.

It’s an odd moment - their eyes locked still, yet neither of them saying a single word. There is some sort of electric discharge in the air, just like last night when their eyes truly met for the first time through the metal bars of Eren’s prison. There is undeniably a burning tension of undisclosed nature in the air and Levi dares to be the first one to break it.

“It’s already late. You can of course sleep till mid-day, however fixing your sleeping schedule could be very beneficial,” raven-hair points out and heads to his room. “I will take the shower first this time, so you could take your time afterwards,” he continues and Eren just nods.

The latter walks over to the coach and places the items he has received on the coffee table and orders the items he had put in the corner of the sofa on it, making it into a bed once more. From the corner of his eyes he sees Levi walking out of his room, the light grey dress shirt gone along with the suit pants, exchanged for a pair of black sweatpants and nothing more. It’s just a glimpse but for some odd reason Eren feels heat rising in his cheeks. This reaction was beyond an explanation and the teen knew well enough this was not the time to search for one.

He sits down on his bed and picks up the short story book again. His reading time is not too long - he gets through only one page - when he hears the bathroom door opening. It’s an instinct to turn his head and he once more sees the inspector in nothing more but those black pants, only now with a towel around his neck - catching the water droplets from his wet hair - and returning to his room. What catches his eyes is a scar on Levi’s side.

It’s larger than than three, maybe even four hands next to each other and darker than the rest of the older man’s skin. It looks like an explosion on his skin - a darker and wider center with smaller cars snaking out of it in all directions to his back, up to his chest and mid way his stomach. Scars were a part of Eren’s existence - proof of past far too recent - but he couldn’t compare them to that at all. His mouth opens to ask, but Levi speaks first.

“Goodnight. My door will be open in case you need anything,” he says in a similar fashion he did last night and Eren just nods before Levi disappears through the door, leaving the smallest gap open. 

There was this feeling in Eren’s chest that inspector Levi might understand him more than it seems at first glance. It’s a lingering thought on the teens mind as he lays down on the pillow after a scalding shower - perhaps they both are more alike than one could think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new update is here! As the chapters are longer, they take a while, but do let me know in the comments what you think about this so far. :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was clear the peaceful routine Eren was starting to sink in couldn’t settle immediately nor could it last long. Nothing in his life thus far had lasted long apart from pain, abuse and despair. So after three days away from it all it almost wasn’t a surprise that he had to relive it once more through his memories. Three days of tea and books, of the long forgotten feeling of safety created by just the fact Levi was near enough at nights - behind the slightly open door - had given Eren a feeling of calmness. Now he once more felt fear and anxiety creeping onto him and even though the older man was close, Eren had the urge to once more grab onto his hand for strength.

He was sitting on the couch he could call his bed, three mugs of jasmine tea on plain coasters, protecting the wooden surface of the coffee table from the heat. Two men, probably in their twenties, sitting in front of him on the floor. One them  - the tallest - had brown, short cut hair and freckles on his cheeks, his eyes hazel and incredibly warm and kind. The one next to him was just a bit taller than Eren himself - his hair light brown on the top but deep black in the undercut section, his eyes the same warm hazel color, but comparing to the man next to him he looked more serious, sad even.

“I’m officer Marco Bott, and this is officer Jean Kirstein - you already met him once,” the man with the freckles speaks and now when he mentions it, Eren did recognize Jean. He was the man that followed Levi when the latter had found Eren. Back then he looked different though. His eyes were wide and filled with hundreds of emotions, his movements nervous and borderline panicking - even Eren could notice it then through his clouded perception.

“We want to ask you some questions,” Marco continues and places a small recorder on the table among the mugs. “Would you be okay answering them?” he ads and Eren’s eyes instinctively look for Levi.

The inspector is standing behind the two officers - back leaning against the window - with a mug in his hands, which was his typical pose. Deep down Eren wanted for the man to sit next to him to grab some strength from the rough yet gentle hands he still vaguely felt in his own. Yet looking at the winter grey eyes staring back at him over the rim of the mug as the inspector was taking a sip of the tea the teen knew well enough why the raven-hair was standing there. If Eren would seem to get too lost in his own mind, all he had to do was look up to get back to reality.

“Of course,” the teen replies and the freckled man smiles before taking few pages from his bag, handing some of them to Jean, and turning on the recorder. A red light starts blinking and Eren focuses on it too hard, jumping when Marco begins speaking

“Today is the 21st of September. Location of interrogation - the witnesses current safe house. Time - 19:35 ” his voice turns from kind and soft to more professional and it’s an odd shift that contrasts with his warm eyes and the gentle smile he still has on his lips.

“Please, state your name and birth date,” comes the first, very simple question and even though it’s nothing horrifying, Eren already feels his hands starting to shake a little.

“My name is Eren Yeager, born on March 30th, year 2001,” he replies and swallows back the nervousness in his neck a bit too loudly. A question about his parents follows, to which he answers dryly - immigrants for work purposes, father disappeared when he was around 8 years old, mother passed away when he was 12. He didn’t have that many memories from those times - maybe they all had melted way in the physical and mental torment or maybe he simply didn’t want to remember the time he might have been happy.

As asked he once more tells the story of his experience with social services, his breath hitching a little as he starts and he quickly takes a large sip of almost too hot tea. The teen vividly recalls the cramped orphanage and the day he is taken to his new home. A couple no one could ever blame for anything had opened their doors to him - their faces and names blurry, thick dark shadows covering them from the moment the man of the social service waved a goodbye and the door of the house closed behind Eren. 

He doesn’t get mistreated there rather on the contrary - they treat him very nice, however not even two months pass when the doorbell rings. Eren remembers it far too well and he knows he will never be able to forget it.

There’s a large built man in an expensive looking suit - asphalt grey with lighter stitches - standing in the door. His voice is almost unnaturally deep as he leans down to the back then 12 year old Eren, his hand on the boys head and says: “How I wanted to meet you, Eren. You’re even prettier than I was told.” His touch feels wrong, it feels too rough and cold and Eren pulls away. He will never forget the roaring laughter coming from the man’s mouth. 

He is still a child then, just come in terms he will never see his mother again, so he doesn’t say much when his step-parents encourage him to look at the man’s “big cool car as all boys like cars, don’t they”. Only when he is pushed in the back seat he starts to fight back and he does it viciously. He screams, he bites, he kicks and hits, he scratches and thrashes around trying to get out from the disgusting cold, clammy hands on his body. Everything goes black when something sharp pierces through his shoulder and Eren has to admit he wishes he hadn’t woken up after that. However he does.

The air smells like cigarette smoke and alcohol, doused in heavy alcohol based cologne and mixed with the scent of sweat and something else. There room is too brightly lit and the lights are hurting Eren’s eyes as they all seem to be turned at him. His clothes are gone and he’s completely naked on a bed far too large to be normal. He can hear men talking near by and he truly wished he could run, but his arms are tied to the ridiculous end piece of the bed, his body too heavy to move. 

The man that took him away from the foster family comes back, only now he is naked as well. There is a glass of amber colored, ill smelling liquid in his right hand and a cigar between his lips. In the same overly deep voice he repeats how pretty Eren looks and places the glass and cigar down before getting on the bed - his eyes dark and hungry, like those of a predator who has just found a harmless prey.

The rest Eren wishes he could forget but he can’t, his own screams and cries far too vivid and too deeply engraved into his memory. His nose will never forget the scent of that almost potent cologne or how it mixed with cigar smoke and alcohol. His ears will never get rid of that disgustingly deep voice and laughter booming at his eardrums. His skin will never truly forget those cold, rough, clammy hands all over him.

He doesn’t go into further details of his first night, or day - he didn’t know as there were no windows in the room - and looks up at the 3 men before him. Marco’s eyes radiate warmth and trust, his face expressing deep sadness, the smile gone from his lips, while Jean next to him look furious. His grip around the pen he is holding looks like it will break the metal stationery soon and he actually looks borderline devastated. 

Eren’s eyes travel to Levi who hasn’t moved. He sees his knuckles turning white from gripping on the handle of the mug too strongly yet the raven-hairs face is expressionless and somehow it says more than the red rage written all over Jean’s features. There was anger frothing in Levi on a level beyond fury and who ever he would let it rain upon would cease to exist.

“What can you tell about the other boys?” Marco finally snaps out and proceeds with his questions. 

Eren has to admit he has seen far too many come and far too many go. Many arrived like him - taken from a foster family - others were taken in from the streets or brought over from another country. Most of them 11 or 12 years old, no one older than 14 at first. 

Each evening when sickening neon lights would turn on outside and muted red would fill the rooms, men of all ages but all of the highest rankings of society would flock there. And it wouldn’t take long for pleads and cries, screams and sobbing to echo around the walls. Oddly enough it seemed that this resistance, this helplessness expressed through tears only riled them up more. It was hard to tell at those moments who were more disgusting - the men arranging this or the men enjoying it.

“Disgusting,” Jean murmurs under his breath through clenched teeth and Marco nudges him lightly in the side. The man downs his still rather hot tea in one go and then returns to taking notes.

“What happened to the boys if they were no longer needed?” Marco asks and Eren’s hands finally lose control. They are shaking violently and he grabs onto his knees to stop them at least somehow.

He wasn’t sure, he had to be honest. Yet plenty of times he heard panicked ‘he’s not breathing’ or ‘we overdid it’ from the rooms. Who ever those words or any other similar phrases  were meant for was not seen again. Some were very young and just brought in, some had been there longer than Eren - it was a cruel game of Russian roulette of who will live through one more horrible night.

During the days they were mostly all kept together almost like cattle in barns. They were taken to a shared shower all together, they were fed on the floor from dishes that looked like those for dogs. What was always made sure was to keep their nail short so they couldn’t stretch the ‘honorable guests’ and healthy mouths for ‘possible usage’. 

“We have heard you tried to escape? Could you give details on that?” Marco asks the next question and before answering Eren looks at Levi, his mental strength reaching it’s limits. The winter grey eyes are looking straight at him and even if it’s ridiculous, he does gain a bit more strength to continue. It might be the scent he already used to swirling in the air and mixing with the slowly cooling down jasmine tea, or the warmth from the light walls and the white flowers blooming in the grey flower pots. It’s easier to talk than he thought it would be.

He takes a deep breath as his attempt to escape might have made things more difficult for him. He saw an opportunity - a dodgy lock on the shackles holding him to the bed where he was waiting for a new guest - and he took it. He twisted his ankle trying to break them off, but he succeeded and grabbing the first clothes he could find he made a run for it as fast as he could with the burning and growing pain in his ankle.

Maybe, if not the injury he sustained himself from yanking his leg too hard, he would have run away, but he didn’t. He was caught near the very moment he ran outside and pulled back into hell. He didn’t even manage to scream for help or truly take a breath of fresh air.  

There are fists and sticks landing on his skin until the man who had brought him there stops his subordinates. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and Eren remembers the taste in his mouth too. His skin crawls when he remembers those hands on him again but this time he doesn’t make a sound. He never does again as if his voice is taken away from him.

After that the cell at the back of the office becomes his living, if one could call it living, space for 6 months and he is the man’s private toy, his ‘damaged and old form’ not suited for the guests anymore. It all continued until few days ago he was finally freed.

“Thank you so much for managing to tell us this,” Marco says and takes the notes from Jean. “As a follow up we might invite you to the station to recognize any suspects or for any further questions. As for today - questioning over,” he adds and turns the recorder off. 

“It takes a lot of courage to speak about that,” the freckled man smiles but Eren's eyes first travel to Jean next to him - his fist clenched and shaking - and then to Levi, who finally moves. He doesn’t say a word but simply collects the empty mugs from the table and walks to the kitchen.

“Now just the thorough medical examination tomorrow at the hospital and then we can look into relocating you…” Marco stands up from the floor where he and Jean had been sitting and Eren jumps to his feet as well as if hit by electricity.

“Relocating?” he pushes over his lips and feels like he should have remained sitting. He’s suddenly sick in the stomach and his head is spinning, his whole body shaking. “What do you mean - relocating?”

“The…” Marco hesitates a little yet continues, “the temporary witness custody application expires after a week and the procedure would be to move you as a minor to… a foster home,” he stops once more before he says the last two words and all Eren can do is shake his head in disbelief.

“No,” he barely pushes past his lips and turns to Levi who is now making his way back to the living room space. Eren knew well enough he was a burden - an annoying piece of trash ruining this perfect home - but after these three days he felt like belonged here. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t belonged anywhere for a very long time, but this felt very real.

“Officer Bott, I would like for you to restrain from spreading unauthorized and untrue information,” Levi speaks with utmost authority in his voice and the other three look at him with confusion. “I have already handed in the paperwork for from prolonged witness custody after seeing the big yakuza names appearing in the confiscate paperwork,” he speaks as calmly and emotionlessly as he usually did, but as always there was a strong sincerity behind his words.

“I apologize for my rushed conclusions.” Marco near shouts out and takes a deep bow, “I will now proceed to take the recording to the station. Have a good evening,” he continues, his tone of voice no longer as kind and care free but very formal, truly as when responding to a superior. Both he and Jean salute to Levi who returns the greeting and leads them out the apartment.

The apartment is still and quiet. The more wood-like scent both of them carried along fades away, the mixture of flowers and earthy freshness returning. It’s a bit of an odd silence and Eren decides to break it, his heart doing flips in his chest, his ears clogged from sudden wave of anxiety.

“If I am annoying, you should just…” he begins, his eyes locked on the floor in front of his feet, another pair of feet coming into the frame of his vision, a voice calming in its monotonous nature interrupting him.

“I am man that keeps my promises,” Levi says and Eren feels his heart speeding up in his chest even more. “Look up, Eren,” the inspector almost orders yet it is more of a request which Eren obliges to. His eyes meet the icy grey ones and they lock in the same electrifying way they did whenever their gazes met.

“When you stepped into this apartment, I promised I would personally make sure you wouldn’t have to go through your past ever again. And when I say I will do it personally, I absolutely mean it,” he speaks loudly, clearly and convincingly - his eyes mesmerizing Eren. “Beside, with Petra as the head of social services in this region, she would baby you for years while in reality you should be thinking about getting into a high school,” he continues and turns around. 

Eren could swear there was a light hint of smile on Levi’s lips as he said the last part, but he is too shocked to even let the information to fully sink in. “High school?” he asks under his breath, concept of school long gone from his memory.

“Never mind that for now,” Levi waves the topic off and something inside Eren does a flip. For first time in a long, long while he feels like he belongs somewhere and the thought of leaving the house tomorrow slips out of his mind.

 

Being back in Levi’s car the next day is a challenge. Each hour away from hell makes his mind clearer and makes memories flow to him more and more. He knows that everything is different - this is not even similar to that car he was pushed years ago, not even close - but his mind still panics. He does his very best to think about the ride from the place he detested with all his heart to Levi’s apartment on the night his life finally changed to something positive. 

Eren closes his eyes and sinks back into the seat breathing in the scent swirling around it. It’s less flowery than the one in the living room and more reminds of the one he caught a small sniff off from Levi’s room. It wraps around him and he inhales and exhale slowly. Everything was different now - drastically, dramatically and daringly - but being pulled out from the swamp that kept sucking him in was something that had to be done fast. The faster he could change as many things about his life the better.

“Are you ready?” Levi’s voice in the driver's seat makes Eren jump a little, but he regains his senses fast and nods. In all honestly he didn’t want to go to the hospital at all. He felt as fine one could feel in his place, but he also understood that was a part of a procedure. The fear of a place with a lot of people did not fade because of that and it actually only got stronger when the car pulled into the parking lot.

The whole ride was a blur - Eren’s eyes more focused on his own fingers fiddling with the corner of the dark brown blazer he was wearing rather than the city flashing by. He felt much safer in the apartment where no one ever visited, where he could get lost in stories and find small routine things to keep his mind occupied. Thinking for now was still filled with horrid images otherwise and any distraction worked.

“We’re here,” Levi startles him once more and yet again Eren just nods. “I must remind you that you can’t hold onto my hand or my clothes when we walk in,” the inspector adds and Eren nods again even though he knows he needs the raw strength radiating from Levi’s skin to get through the hallways. He also knew that somewhere along all this examinations a psychological one will come along and getting stronger was something he needed to do as quickly as possible. He promises himself he will keep his childish need to hold on to Levi to himself,

What surprises him to the point he gasps is Levi’s hand suddenly resting on his trembling ones, squeezing them tightly. “Keep your head held high and get through this,” the older man sounds like he’s talking to a subordinate, but the touch of his rough hand is warm and reassuring and Eren clings onto it for a minute.

“Okay. It will be fine,” he finally speaks and unwillingly let’s go of Levi’s hand, keeping at least some sort of skin to skin contact till the very last second. This was enough. This could get him through this day and allow to return to a place he could possibly, truly call home.

As expected the amount of people rushing through the hallways is alarming, however Eren is determined to keep his composure. He walks almost too tightly next to Levi, keeping his hands to himself, feeling far too many eyes looking at him, but he ignores them and keeps walking further in. 

“Eren?” a familiar voice suddenly says his name and from looking at nothing and no one to avoid anything that could trigger him, Eren focuses on a sun blond boy just now walking out of a room. 

“Armin?” the teen gasps and takes three large steps forward as the blond does the same ignoring a woman behind him telling to stop. They meet mid hallway and it’s not even a question upon what to do as they naturally embrace each other - Eren pulling the shorter boy against his chest. It’s hard to keep back tears - tears of joy the blond was okay - but Eren tells himself he has to, or else his nerves will give out and this whole examination will fail.

“How are you? Is everything okay?” they both pull apart finally and Eren pets the boys head, scanning him head to toe. He clearly remembers holding his friend through violent seizures caused by over-pumping his system with drugs, he remembers those big blue eyes crying to the point he no longer had any tears left. Those blue endless lakes were the last truly human eyes he saw before he was thrown into his solitary cell. 

“Yes. My aunt flew here to get me and after this is over and resolved I will be able to go back home,” the boys speaks with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling. Plenty of times had he told Eren about his home across the ocean, about his house where he lived with his aunt and his dad. As unfairly as life used to treat people, he got separated from his father during a business trip and snatched away the very second around a year ago. Now he finally could return home.

“But how about you?” Armin asks and in similar fashion as Eren just did scan him top to bottom. The teen quickly glances at Levi talking to Armin’s aunt in what seems to be English and then looks back at the blond boy. 

“I’m good. Inspector Levi took me in,” he says with a faint smile and Armin glances at the man before looking back at Eren.

“Is he good to you? He looks scary,” Armin admits and Eren wants to laugh. Indeed, Levi did look scary and intimidating, but the more one focused on the slight changes in his eyes, the more they knew he was not all that stoic. There was a depth of emotions hidden in him that were yet to be uncovered by someone, let alone understood, but he definitely wasn’t emotionless, at least not to Eren.

“I feel safe,” Eren replies and the blond smiles and nods. 

“Then I’m glad I asked exactly him to save you,” Armin continues and the teen wants to ask what he meant by that, but Levi’s voice calling his name stops him.

“Eren, doctor is waiting,” the raven-haired man is already standing at the door of the doctor’s office and even though the teen would rather spend few more minutes with Armin before the blond disappears from his life and returns to his family, he knows it’s not an option.

Eren pulls the blue-eyed boy close again and the latter tightens his grip around Eren as well. “Stay safe and be careful. I believe we will meet one day again,” he whispers so that only Armin would hear him and the boy nods, squeezing Eren with all his strength.

“Same to you. Be happy,” Armin whispers back and pulls away. “See you, Eren,” he takes a step back with a faint smile on his lips and the taller of two can’t help but to smile in return. He pets the boys head one more time before walking to Levi, who has been waiting. His heart is beating a bit too quickly, but it begins to calm down as he for the last time glances at the blond walking away with his aunt. Armin was probably the strongest boy Eren knew and his endurance was the thing that inspired Eren not to give up and continue fighting and hoping till the very end. 

He wished to have more of that strength now as his knees get weak walking into the doctor's office. The room is sterile white, an older man and a woman around the same age are standing in front of an examination table with insincere smiles on their faces. Something about it all seems too proper, too plastic and inhuman.

One of the first things Eren notices is how the woman looks at Levi, who is talking to the doctor while browsing through a thick folder of medical records. Theoretically, the woman is busy taking Eren’s blood samples, but at the same time she keeps glancing at Levi with undeniable disgust on her face and then turning back to Eren with a faked smile. Unsettling was an understatement when it came to the atmosphere.

It seemed that the doctor did not like Levi either, almost pushing words over his lips when he was asked anything. The behavior of the two medics was as unreasonable as it could be regarding a police inspector and even though daring, Eren made a decision to later on ask Levi what was it about. 

“Now, let’s start the physical examination.  _ You _ can wait outside, inspector,” the doctor tries to sound positive and bright, but the condescending tone in his voice is very strong and unsettling. 

“I would like for inspector to stay, please,” Eren doesn’t even think and just let’s the words escape from his lips. The nurse and the doctor look at him with wide eyes while in Levi’s face he sees the same triumphant half smirk he had when Eren refused to go with the social workers.

“Now, wouldn’t you be uncomfortable if he stays. The less people the better,” the nurse tries to convince him, but if there was a person Eren felt comfortable in one room it was Levi, not the two medics. He was aware of the state of his body and how far this examination can go to the nature of his past. After all the humiliations he had endured for years, being uncomfortable was not a concept he could relate to.

“I would like for him to stay, please,” the teen repeated one more time and the medics seemed at complete lost. Meanwhile Levi, still holding the thick folder he got from the doctor, sat down on a chair next to a desk in the furthest corner of the room.

“I guess that’s decided. Carry on, doctor,” the inspector spoke in his usual monotone voice, yet this time, if one listened carefully enough, there was a hint of victory in it.

“Very well then,” the doctor cleared his throat. “Let’s start. Take off your shirt, please,” he instructed and even though his hands were slightly shaking Eren obliged, quickly glancing at Levi, who was focusing on the information he was given.

The files before the inspector's eyes lifted the new level of disgust he felt for humans another bar higher. The documentation of scars, bruises, needle marks, torn muscles and much more from the boys that were taken to the hospital the very evening of the raid and the one’s already examined almost reminded of files from a death camp. In a way it was a death house they had been in, as some of them had been one hit, one injection away from losing their lives.

Levi’s eyes go up from the file just for a second, the scars all over Eren’s back making the anger in his stomach to bubble once more. The boy is even too obedient when it comes to the doctor’s requests of either moving around or taking off another piece of clothing, not showing any signs of embarrassment, which makes one question - how much he has endured before to not give damn right now. 

Inspector looks back at the files, the ages of the boys going as low as 10, lowering the initial average age even more. They had managed to already talk with some of the older boys, who had already broken down while talking about their lives not long ago at all. The very image of those small children having to remember it all was heartbreaking, no matter how strong one’s heart was or how good one could pretend it was. 

Maybe Petra was right. Maybe giving them more time would be better. Then again the longer they dragged out this investigation the more children and teens like them could suffer. It was a dilemma with no secured correct answer and that was highly frustrating.

“Now, where exactly are you staying right now?” the nurse asks Eren and Levi looks up from the folder, observing the woman’s actions. There were plenty of people who appreciated Levi’s work, but there were also the one’s who hated his very existence and from all the doctors and nurses in the hospital, the one’s working with the case were of the second kind.

“I am under the custody of inspector L… Ackerman,” the teen replies and the nurse’s eyes go big. She glances at Levi full of disgust and then back to Eren, leaning closer to him and taking his hands in hers. 

“Do you want us to help and get to a nice foster home? You can tell me if yes. Imagine he is not there,” the nurse speaks and squeezes Eren’s hands harder and the teen wishes he could pull them out of her grip. They feel almost plastic - rubbery and fake from all the gloves she has to wear on daily basis. There is no sincerity in her words or actions and it only confuses the teen.

“I am fine the way it is now, thank you,” Eren tries to keep calm and remain polite, even though it’s very hard when two full grown adults were acting like children, giving Levi the definition of a stink-eye. Was it an old grudge? Something on a professional or maybe private level?

“It’s okay to tell me. You can whisper if you want, we will understand. After all you’ve been through you shouldn’t think that what his  _ kind  _ does is acceptable,” she continues and the more she speaks the more repulsed Eren becomes of the way how her lips move, how her voice sounds, how the whole room stinks of medication and sterilization liquids.

“I don’t understand what you are talking about. Could you please let go of me?” he tries to pull his hands away, his patience wearing thin and he didn’t have much of it to begin with, all his knowledge of being polite rusty and not used for years. 

“I think the examination is over,” Levi stood up from his seat and the woman finally let go of Eren’s hands. The teen jumped off the examination table immediately and got dressed as fast as he could, taking a step away from the woman. The doctor was yet to say something, being busy with filling in a medical chart the whole time. He, however, showed his attitude by near ripping the folder out of Levi’s hands when he handed it back.

“When all the blood tests will be in, I will send an officer to take the copies of the files,” despite the rotten behavior, Levi remained his calm self. That was a quality Eren could only admire - the absolute calm Levi kept in any situation.

“Good,” comes a response and the tension in the air can be cut with a knife. Two pairs of eyes almost literally set fire to Eren’s and Levi’s backs when they leave the office and even more when they walk down the hallway. It’s as if they are two wizards led through a town back in medieval ages just to be burned at the stake. 

Eren’s hands are itching to grab onto Levi, to get the sterile, plastic feeling off them - burned off by the touch he needed more than he should - but he manages to hold back till they got to the car. The scent that was already familiar engulfed him and he finally felt as if he could breathe again. He wasn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable when asked to undress and examined from head to toe, not at all. However the behavior of the medics was unsettling him.

“What was that about?” he turns to Levi as soon as the man gets into the car and even though he wants an answer, he can tell by the man’s face he won’t get it right now.

“Let’s have lunch and then I will take you home,” as expected Levi completely ignores the question. He leans over to Eren, the later holding his breath at the sudden action, and buckles the teen’s seat belt even though he could do it himself. He doesn’t say a word more and drives out of the parking lot, heading to a direction clear only to him.

This time Eren is focused on Levi’s expression as he drives. He doesn’t look angry, he doesn’t look upset or offended. More than anything it looks like he is seriously considering something. His eyes shift between the mirrors and the road and for second Eren could swear he looks at him too, their eyes meeting for a barely there moment. It’s still electrifying and somehow makes Eren even more anxious to get a response to his question.

It’s a stressful wait for the ride to be over, but they rather soon pull over next to a small ramen shop. Only then Eren realizes what the man meant by having lunch. The teen was not sure he could handle this - the hospital already being a huge challenge - and even the near empty street did not calm him down. Every alleyway seemed too dark even though it was the middle of the day, each passerby suddenly reminded of a guest he had seen in his personal hell before.

“Come on,” the passenger side door opens and Eren shifts his attention from looking around the street to Levi waiting for him. He slowly unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car, the feeling strongly reminding of the first time he had to get out of it. At the back of his head he knows he is safe if Levi is around, but he can’t help feeling nervous.

“Go on,” Levi encourages him, nodding towards the entrance of the shop and even though slowly and fearfully, Eren walks in.

The place is tiny - all together not even a bit bigger than Levi’s apartments living and kitchen space together. There are two tables for two on the side and a long counter with divided single booths, chefs working on the other side of it. Currently there were two more customers - a man and a woman - sitting at the counter in two of the separated booths and by the sound of it enjoying their lunch. Eren’s eyes travel over the simple, traditional interior in natural brown tones and he almost misses Levi walking past him. 

“Sit here,” the older man instructs pointing to a seat the furthest away from the entrance. He waits for Eren to sit down before folding away the wooden wall between the two cubicles and sits down as well, being the wall between Eren and the rest of the restaurant. It’s a bit silly, but it felt safer than hiding behind any real wall.

There’s an over all silence in the restaurant. No loud talks apart from the chefs communicating, just some clinking dishes and the sounds of slurping noodles. Levi orders two of his usuals, which shows very clearly he comes here often and by looking around Eren could see why the older man would like it here. Little to no people, quiet - no radios or TV’s - and above all the wooden details radiated the same scent Eren had noticed so many times before.

They do not speak until the food arrives and even then it takes a moment. Levi is the one breaking the relative silence. “Do you really want to know what was up with the medics?” he asks staring into his bowl and Eren has to swallow his mouthful of hot noodles before he can answer with a simple ‘yes’.

“There are two reasons. First one you must have noticed - me and a part of our department are only half Japanese or sometimes even less, so there are a lot of people who automatically associate us with gangs and human traffickers who are covering up the crimes from the police side,” he explains. For his usually rather quiet self he says a lot and Eren can’t focus on the food at all. He wants to argue how ridiculous this perception is as the men in charge of it all were through and through Japanese, yet he stays quiet.

“The second reason, well, I should have said said it earlier and I am afraid it might disturb you however I want to assure you that my intentions have never been connected with that,” his words sound so serious Eren wants to stop him. He wants to tell him he doesn’t care anymore and one reason is enough. His heart is beating like crazy in his chest and he almost loses his breath when Levi turns to him and locks their eyes, the fire staring sparkles jumping around again.

“Their main concern this time was the ongoing rumor which carries truth in it,” his eyes are unreadable and Eren is about to panic. “The rumor and the truth is, that I am gay,” the words come from Levi’s lips in the same manner as always, at least it could seem like it, but for the first time in these days Eren hears him being insecure. It’s a faint hint, but it’s still there.

“If that bothers you I will find you another…” the inspector continues and Eren doesn’t even want to hear the end of that sentence, because it’s something he doesn’t want no matter what.

“It doesn’t bother me at all!” he exclaims a bit too loudly and sinks back into his chair attempting to hide from possible glances even though the wooden walls and Levi’s broad shoulders hide him from everyone. “It really doesn’t bother me. I have this inner feeling that I can trust you,” he continues and turns his eyes to the swelling noodles in his bowl, “beside you promised you would make sure nothing bad would ever happen to me again. You’re a man of your word, aren’t you?” he turns the words Levi said to thim just yesterday back at him, feeling slight heat rising in his own cheeks.

“Indeed I am,” Eren might be seeing things but there seem to be a smirk on Levi’s lips again, but only or a second so he’s not sure was it his imagination or reality. “Let’s finish our food and then I will take you home,” he changes the topic swiftly as if he hadn’t said anything shocking before and returns to his bowl. Eren just nods and does the same.

Did this fact really change anything? To Eren’s mind it honestly didn’t. He was not afraid of Levi, he wasn’t intimidated by him or overly observant of his moves around him. It changed nothing because he had received a promise from Levi that meant more than anything else for Eren right now. That was what matter the most everything else being just a background noise of no importance. 


	4. ~~IV~~

Never before had Eren liked one day of the week more than the other. Monday was the same as Friday and the weekend melted together with the rest of the week. The days, the hours - minutes even - all had blended into a dark blob with no borders or rules that made it clear which was which. He had lost interest in time as a concept for a while, the blue lights of his cell eating away at this interest towards existing, let alone taking note on how long had he been locked up. It was the weirdest state of existence - being somewhere but not knowing since when or for how long, everything being just approximate.

It was odd to see and feel the differences between a rising sun in the morning and a twilight embracing the city behind a window. A strange foreign feeling entered his heart and mind upon developing routines - from making his bed, having a shower and brushing his teeth in the morning, to having tea with Levi in the evening when he returned from the police station. However this weird feeling was a good one, a secure one and it brought some calmness to his still restless mind, that liked to remind of days with no hours in them and weeks with no days.

The teen had to admit he even had days in the week he preferred more than others. He liked Saturday evenings when Levi came home earlier than on other days and even though mostly in silence, they could spend few more hours together and the very presence of the silent man was calming to Eren. It as comfortable and warm, the rich earth-like scent flowing from Levi, which he noticed was stronger in the evenings than mornings and filled the air around Eren. However, he liked Sundays above everything.

The very first Sunday he woke up was a surprise attack on his senses. One side of the curtains was open, barely there morning light of the cloudy sky sneaking into the room and gently biting Eren’s just opened eyes. The air was filled with a sweet scent reminiscent of fresh bread or pastry, winning over the flowery and earthy notes that usually dominated in the air. There was light crackling in the kitchen and someone moving around in the space behind the counter. 

It was a surprise and wasn’t at the same time when Eren rose from the couch to see Levi cooking. The inspector had mentioned before he couldn’t cook for Eren on weekdays, yet the latter never imagine it would mean he would do that on weekends. He was wearing a deep green apron over a casual navy blue t-shirt, the short sleeves tightly clinging around his biceps, fabric stretched over his broad chest, and simplest dark denim jeans. His whole concentration was on the pan and it was almost odd to see those icy eyes looking so intensely at a pancake sizzling on the heat. It almost looked as if he counted before flipping the pancake and then placing it on top of others.

There were two neat stacks of four thick, golden pancakes on simple white plates waiting on the counter, a small bowl of what looked like some sort of jam and other with golden syrup in between them. As per usual two steaming mugs of freshly brewed tea next to the plates awaiting. It was so simple, so plain to be very honest, but Eren had never felt so much joy by looking at a set table before and he had to breathe out slowly to keep such ridiculously strong feelings bottled inside. Those were just pancakes, right?

“Good morning,” he finally manages to speak as he walks over to the counter and takes a closer look. His mouth is salivating and his eyes are focused on the breakfast he had never had before, but he already knew it would be the best in his life. Eren didn’t even want to ruin the moment by trying to remember the last time he had a breakfast that gave a true feeling of a home before him. This was the moment that mattered, not some sad, grey scraps of images from past.

“Wash your face and come to eat before it gets cold,” Levi’s voice sounds as monotone and disinterested as any other time, but Eren can swear he sounds a bit more relaxed, a little less serious and burdened unlike the days after work. Something told Eren that perhaps Levi enjoyed Sundays too when he didn’t have to do be around people. He kept the thought in his mind and rushed to the bathroom to get to eating faster.

Those probably weren’t the most amazing pancakes on the planet and someone, who had them often, could fault them for being too bland if one didn’t add jam or syrup, and a bit too dense, but for Eren they were perfect. They were made for him by someone who genuinely cared and nothing made food taste better than care, that was Eren’s conviction. Beside after tasting various kinds of pre-made lunch boxes, this was heavenly - to have something straight from the pan.

Those a bit bland pancakes made Sunday mornings wonderful, Levi making them each Sunday that followed, and the whole day Eren’s favorite in the week just because of how it started. The days were slow and lazy - black on white letters jumping before Eren’s eyes, his reading skills getting better and better with each page, each book he went through. He still liked to ask for word explanations to the man sitting on the couch next to him even when he had already understood it from the context. The teen did have hundreds of other questions rushing through his mind - about the investigation, about Levi’s job in general, about his life and experiences - he wanted to ask it all, but the comfortable silence between them was something he treasured more.

Sundays were his favorite, but he didn’t take for granted any other evening either. Each mug of tea he shared with Levi was special, sometimes accompanied by a pudding or sweet pastry the inspector would bring, and it had become the best evening ritual from day one. On one such evening, Eren acted spontaneously and took the initiative for this ritual in his own hands. 

The moment Eren heard the door open he placed the book on the coffee table and made his way to the kitchen. He filled the kettle with water and while it started to heat up on the stove he took two mugs from the cupboard along with two tins of tea. 

He had already explored all of the packages and labels, sniffed every tin and looked at the colorful petals and plain dark green leaves in the containers. It was a new routine he set for himself, a new duty he decided to take upon - to brew tea for them every evening when Levi came home. There was no commentary on Eren’s decision or actions, just a ‘thank you’ when he handed the steaming mug to Levi. That alone made it rather clear he had made a right decision. It was his way of showing gratitude for having a place he could call home and he wished he could show it more, show it better and more clearly.

The teen did try to take on smaller tasks around the house too - some cleaning, volunteering to do the laundry - even though he was not asked or forced to do them. He liked the simple, clean order of things in the apartment as he was there all the time, he wanted to maintain it. However he knew very well, his small effort did not keep the place sparkly clean and spotless. At first, it was a mystery how it was possible, but the more he observed Levi, the more he paid attention to his routines the more he understood why everything was the way it was.

 

It was a rather sleepless night, which gladly was a first since he got away from hell on earth, and Eren kept tossing and turning on the couch. He felt as if he was hearing a noise somewhere in the apartment and his already thin sleep just made ridiculous ideas floating around his head. What if someone came to get him? What if they were here to take him away? He literally shook his head to get rid of those ridiculous thoughts. Instead of remaining scared of his own mind playing tricks, he sat up and turned on the reading lamp on the dimmest setting.

The phone he kept on the table at all times showed few minutes over 5 AM - an odd hour to say the least. He looked around the living room at and kitchen space - both empty and dark, the only light radiating around him in a deep amber tone. The sound he heard before was still present - heavy breathing and grunting, something heavy hitting the floor in regular intervals. There weren’t many options of where it was coming from so Eren quietly made his way to the door of Levi’s room, which he always left open in a small gap.

Surprisingly and at the same time not really the one making the sounds was indeed the raven-hair.  Levi was on the floor in nothing more but grey tracksuit pants next to an open window. His hands were tightly holding onto the barbells Eren hand seen that one time he had peaked into the older man’s room. The latter pushed up from the ground and then pulled one arm along with heavy weight up to his chest and then put it back down, lowering himself to the floor again before rising up again and then repeating the same movements with his other arm.

Every single muscle in his upper body was tense, sweat rolling over his sharp features and down the crevices of his muscles. Even though he was a rather short man, he had incredibly broad shoulders and chest, his whole built meant to impress and make one forget about his shorter stance. Heat rose in Eren’s cheeks and he swallowed, perhaps a bit too loudly, but he was pretty sure even Levi didn’t hear him now, too occupied with his routine.

The man, however, stood up soon, breathing heavy - chest rising and falling in deep breaths, his gaze focused on the window. His winter grey eyes looked at something and at nothing at the same time and Eren wished he would know what was going on in raven-haired head. His eyes went down to the dark scar on the man’s side and once more a sea of questions swarmed and became restless in his head. This, once more, was not the time to barge into the man’s room and ask them. Eren retreated for the night and returned to his bed space, falling asleep to new questions, new thoughts and new images in his head, just to wake up to Levi gone to the station once again.

A few nights later the teen woke up again. This time the sound of moving was a lot closer than before. He peeked over the edge of the couch and almost gasped, betraying himself, yet managed to keep his shocked inhale to himself. 

The door of Levi’s room was open, light hitting only the kitchen area and behind the couch, and the man himself was moving around the dimly lit space. The surprising thing wasn’t him being there, once more near 5 AM as the phone screen indicated, but him being on all fours washing the floor. Eren couldn’t believe his own eyes and actually wished it was just a hallucination or an odd dream as he sank back in the couch hoping to fall asleep soon. Had this happened other nights as well and he had slept through it all unknowingly?

It took around a week and a half and a few carefully set alarms for the teen to fully realize all details of Levi’s daily routine. Even though the man very rarely came home earlier than 11 PM and almost always spent from 30 minutes to an hour with Eren, which mean he didn’t go to sleep faster than midnight, he was up before 5 AM every morning. Some mornings he cleaned - the shelves, the floors, the lamps, even the plants - trying his best not to wake Eren up. Other mornings he worked out in his room - barbells resounding against the floor. On other ones, he went running but sometimes he left with a bag on his shoulder and Eren assumed he went to a gym. 

Near every morning around 6 - 6.30AM he placed Eren’s breakfast on the counter, even though the teen could manage himself in the fridge and around the house well enough, and then left for work. Even on the nights, he came back too late for Eren to remain awake and wait for him, he was back up at the same time, going through one of his routines. If he didn’t get to speak to the boy in the evening he left a not next to the breakfast, sometimes with a new magazine or book next to it.

Eren knew well enough that sometimes sleep was the hardest part of the day - everything from past to present bubbling like a volcano about to burst, not letting one rest. He had learned to cope with it and at least for the sleep hours push the thoughts away, but he couldn’t even imagine what could make Levi wake up every day with only a few hours of sleep. Was it just a routine or was it something more?

Rather than finding the man’s behavior weird, which was admittedly his initial reaction, Eren found it sad. He himself tried to create routines in every single little thing to cope, to heal his own distorted mind. He feared the moment when ‘a professional’ would require to examine his mental state. It was clearer than the day he would not do well in such test, especially as the source of his strength would be asked to wait outside. How much could he show he was dependent on Levi? He was sure inspector was putting this meeting back because he knew better than anyone how Eren was feeling right now. But, if Eren gained strength to move on from Levi, where did the older man gain his?

 

It was the third Sunday morning in the place Eren could finally call home. The breakfast dishes had been washed, dried and put away, only the usual mugs of tea steaming on the coffee table. Levi was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, with one of the thicker french books in his hands while Eren was sitting on the floor. A bunch of high school textbooks Levi had brought home yesterday - from math to history, from classical literature to English - before him on the table. Levi was not joking when he mentioned Eren going back to school. He didn’t say when or where, but it was definitely going to happen.

The thought of being around large crowds of people was unsettling for Eren to say the least. Perhaps his tormented mind was so used to being alone for days in a row he couldn’t cope with any other presence near him, Levi being an exception. He could learn to be near people, he probably could tolerate it or hide his concerns like he did when he was taken to the hospital, but he wasn’t sure it was worth it. What definitely wasn’t worth it was pondering about all these questions now, ruining the peace of mind the comfortable silence gave to him. 

It was another slow day - Eren now asking math related questions once in a while, the subject seeming the most interesting from the bunch for now - but no matter how hard he tried, questions unrelated to the geometry book before him kept on popping up. He held them in during lunch and while they were doing the dishes, he bottled them up when they returned to the couch and he was sure he could push them back in his head. Yet the more he tried, the more they haunted him and the more annoyed he got.

“Damn it,” he hissed, his curious frustration being taken out on a strand of hair that kept falling out of his ponytail. The long hair usually wasn’t a big inconvenience as he mostly kept them tied back, but today, in particular, everything seemed annoying to him. It could have been because he fully realized how truly little he knew for his age, or maybe because this made him understand how little he knew of Levi or most probably a combination of both.

“I should just cut them off,” he murmurs and tries to put the disobedient strand behind his ear, but it falls back the moment he looks at the book. He growls under his breath and pulls the elastic band out of his hair, re-tying the ponytail in hopes the strand will now fit in it, yet it falls out again and Eren let’s out a frustrated whine.

“Do you feel ready to go to a hair salon?” comes a very casual sounding question from Levi as he takes a sip of his tea, places the mug down on the table again and turns the page in his book. He had a very good point. Eren still didn’t think of himself as ready to go outside - the warmth of the apartment and Levi’s company being enough - and even the thought of someone unknown near him flipped his stomach. 

Eren’s eyes travel to Levi’s face, the perfect black arches of hair falling over his forehead, and he sighs. The inspector's hair looked smooth, healthy and always impeccable, while Eren had a scruffy mop on his head. He looked like a tall, overgrown beanstalk next to the older man in general. His manner lacking, his frame only now gaining some sort of shape from regular meals, his movements a bit too clumsy and lacking the finesse Levi had. He was a lanky, mop-headed shadow next to the man and it was a horrible feeling. What did he even think when looking at Eren? Was he even worth any other thought but a comparison to a child?

The teen tries to fix his hair again, putting the disobedient strand behind his ear again, but the moment he looks down it falls out again. He cannot take it for a second longer and lets out the first words that come to his mind. “Maybe you can do it?” he turns to Levi who rises his eyes from the book and looks at the teen.

“Do what?” he questions, his eyebrow raised as the other times he had questioned Eren’s actions or words. 

“Cut my hair?” Eren feels the heat in his cheeks, which is ridiculous, but it isn’t something he can stop. He knew it was a silly request, but at the same time, it wasn’t silly at all. In this whole world, there was only one person Eren truly trusted and doesn’t it make sense he would trust only this person to be near him with a sharp object? Wouldn’t this person know how Eren would look the best? But, would this person even care for Eren’s looks, to begin with?

The last thought made the red in Eren’s cheeks become even brighter. Not that Levi probably cared about how Eren looked. He was a kid to him, someone he was investing a bit of his time and knowledge in. Someone he was protecting, someone he hopefully cared about on a certain level, but nothing more. There was a voice at the back of the teen’s head telling him that it was not it, that his dark thoughts made him doubt thing he shouldn’t doubt but feel, yet he ignored it.

“Sure. Why not,” Levi’s response comes as a surprise and Eren is so gone in his own head today he doesn’t even react to it at first. Only when the man puts his book down and stands up does the teen grasp it. He jumps on his feet as well, nearly hitting his knee on the coffee table, and his tongue is itching to ask and make sure, but he quickly decides not to, in case Levi would change his mind.

The latter makes his way to the bedroom and comes back a minute later with a pair of scissors and a comb in his hands. “Have you changed your mind?” he asks and Eren shakes his head frantically, quickly following Levi to the kitchen area. 

“Go get your hair wet and take a towel on your way back,” the man instructs, pulling one of the chairs from the counter more into the light. It seems like he is almost excited or rather relieved, or perhaps both, about this turn of events, but Eren doesn’t question it. He walks to the bathroom, pulls his shirt, which has started to fit him a bit better, off and sticks his head under the shower. The water is cold, but it doesn’t matter as he turns it off in counted seconds. The teen ruffles the mane he will soon get rid off with a towel and then places it around his shoulders before walking out. Levi’s eyes are on him, scanning him from head to toe and then back, but he says nothing - just nods toward the chair. 

Eren feels like he is a bit too excited about this, but he tries to remain calm as he sits down. He places his hands on his knees and straightens his back, looking at Levi who was placing their mugs away in the cupboard. The man turns to him, his grey eyes unreadable, and then walks closer. It seems like he hesitates a little, but only for a second or two before his fingers run through Eren’s hair from top to the very tips, smoothing the mane back.

There is a shiver that runs through Eren and he hopes it’s not too noticeable. It’s a simple, very casual touch, but his heart speeds up and he has no idea how he could stop it. Levi continues to rearrange Eren’s hair - his fingers gently sliding through the wet mess - and the teen almost stops breathing. The fresh earthy scent he now could associate only with Levi - weather it was his cologne or maybe just the natural scent he radiated - hit his nose too hard and sped his heart up even more. 

“Any requests?” the man finally asks and Eren shakes his head, afraid his voice will break if he says anything. “Good. This mess annoyed me to an extent I didn’t think the hair could,” Levi as of lets an incredible weight of his shoulders before taking the scissors and a strand of Eren’s hair between his fingers, cutting near half of its length off. 

The room sinks into silence, only the sound of scissors cutting away the weight on Eren’s head ringing through the air. This time it’s not one of the pleasant silences they used to share. It seems tense and filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. Thankfully Levi breaks it as he moves from Eren’s bangs to his back - more hair falling on the floor. 

“You finally start to look healthier,” he points out and only then Eren realizes he had rushed out of the bathroom without his shirt.  “Maybe soon you could try some exercising. Would be good for a teen your age,” he continues, his fingers threading through the teen’s hair, lifting and rearranging levels of it. 

The touch is so light, so barely there it’s remarkable Eren can even feel it but he does feel it. It was as if every strand of hair has now turned into highly sensitive sensors, feeling the heat and strength that radiates from Levi’s hand. Yet the touch is so careful, so considerate it’s borderline frustrating and Eren wishes those fingers would tangle in his hair more tightly, sending shiver from his scalp to his spine. He wanted to feel more, whatever even more meant in this case.

“That would be great,” Eren tightens the grip on his knees, trying to chase his own ludacris thoughts away. “Speaking of which,” he tries to swallow back the nervousness before asking the thing that has been bothering him nearly for weeks and no could see his hormonal mind from overheating, “why do you work out at night?” he pushes the words over his lips and Levi stops for a moment. He reaches for the comb as if it was what he wanted to do initially and only then speaks.

“Did I wake you up with that?” he asks and Eren shakes his head just slightly, not to mess up what Levi as doing.

“I had some problems sleeping last week, so I woke up a couple of times quite early,” it’s not a lie Eren is telling - his sleep really had been thin that week -, however, he woke up on purpose most of the times. “I also saw you cleaning and going out,” he admits and this time Levi doesn’t stop. He brushes through the boy's hair, rearranging it again and then making more wet strands hit the floor. “I was just wondering, why you were getting up so early?” he ads a question when the older man does not reply and hopes for an answer this time.

“It’s a habit,” Levi finally speaks and it seems like a serious topic. Eren doesn’t say a word more and hopes for Levi to continue on his own and gladly, he does indeed.

“I was in professional military service when I was in my twenties,” his fingers brush through Eren’s hair and the teen tries to hold back another shiver rushing through him from the touch, which feels absurdly nice on his scalp. “Waking up on a certain time has remained as a habit my body can’t get rid off,” he ads and snaps few more strands shorter and shorter. 

“Isn’t it hard to sleep so little?” Eren asks, catching a glimpse of Levi’s face from the corner of his eyes, the dark circles under his eyes engraved in his skin from years of this ‘habit’. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Once you get used to something like that you no longer notice,” Levi speaks calmly and it even though there is still very little emotion in his voice, his words sound sincere. In all honestly, Eren could only agree to Levi’s words, as he had gotten used too many things, not caring about them in the end, his own habits changing only now and painfully slowly.

“Haven’t you tried to change this habit?” the teen asks again and follows with his eyes how Levi walks in front of him to look at his own work. He ruffles what’s left of Eren’s hair, the length somehow still there, yet not at the same time.

“I am too old to change,” there is something similar to a faint smile on Levi’s lips as he walks around the teen again, snipping more wet strands off.

“I don’t think you’re old at all,” Eren throws out, almost sounding offended by the inspector's words. Yes, there was an impressive age gap between the two of them, however, he truly didn’t see Levi as old. Maybe it was his face or his built that didn’t translate as ‘old’, but nevertheless, Eren couldn’t agree with such statement. He seemed experienced, roughed up by life and pulled through his own personal circles of hell, but that did not make him ‘old’.

“Sure,” Levi almost scoffed and Eren wanted to object again but the man was suddenly in front of him and dangerously close at that, his nose just a few centimeters away from Eren’s. His icy grey eyes locked with Eren’s seafoam blue, the shared gaze setting fire to the air around them, at least to Eren. Those eyes looked away from his and focused on a hand ruffling Eren’s hair once more before the older man moved away. 

“Done,” he states and places the scissors and comb on the counter. He takes the towel from Eren’s shoulders and dusts the cut off hair from his chest, neck, and face - Eren’s eyes on him the whole time, his hands, which touch Eren could still faintly feel in his, so close to his bare skin yet so far from it, it was almost painful. 

Eren’s face turned strawberry red - from neck till the tip of his ears - as he caught himself wishing for something unimaginable. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to be touched by Levi - the raw power from his fingertips all over his skin, making sparkles dance in layers deeper than skin. The empowering feeling of Levi's hands in his - he wanted to feel it on his shoulders, his sides, his chest, every centimeter of his skin and that was the most frightening feeling. The teen believed he would never want anyone to touch him ever again, yet here he was - his eyes focused on Levi’s as the man shook the towel and folded it to throw in the laundry basket later on.

“You can go look in the mirror,” the man points out and Eren almost falls off the chair and just nods before half sauntering to the bathroom. One shock was exchanged for another one as the face before he did not look like his anymore. His hair is much shorter, but not as short as he thought it would be. Some strands stop at his eyebrows, some at his ears and they reach the shortest point on his neck. The cut reveals his jawline and fuller cheeks, no longer hiding his eyes. He no longer looks like a scruffy kid, but as a young man and he has to lean closer to make sure it’s really him.

He picks up the shirt he had left their and puts it back on as he walks to the living room. As expected Levi is sweeping the cut of hair into a dustpan and doesn’t pay much attention to the teen returning. The latter puts the chair he was sitting back in its place as if it’s a rehearsed performance takes the dustpan from Levi.

“I look a lot different, don’t I?” he asks as he hands the item back to Levi, who returns it to the utility closet next to the fridge. The man scans Eren from head to toe once more before turning around to walk to the couch.

“A little bit,” he admits and Eren follows him to where they were sitting before the spontaneous haircut happened. He tries to read in the icy eyes a hint of emotions - any at all - but this time he gets nothing. He sits back down to the textbooks with a sigh which is ignored by the older man and reads through yet another trigonometry task before shutting the book with a bit too much noise, attracting Levi’s attention.

He knows the gesture was too loud, he didn’t mean it to be, but the question that popped back into his head suddenly was more important. “The scar…” he begins and he can see Levi shifting in his seat. “Did you get it from serving as well?” he asks and turns to Levi who has his eyes turned to Eren already.

“I did,” he replies simply and it is obvious that this is not the answer that will satisfy Eren. “I tried to save my comrades by smothering an amateur hand grenade that was thrown into our tent,” he speaks slowly, his eyes locked with Eren’s that are now shining even brighter than before. “I succeeded, however, while medics were trying to save me in the local hospital, the camp was bombarded and all of them died anyway,” Levi ads almost too dryly, too emotionlessly and tries to return to his book, but a warm, slightly trembling hand grabs his.

“Is that the real reason why you can’t sleep?” comes a question almost too naive and straightforward at the same time. Eren was a good observer and it was clear some things couldn’t be hidden from him even behind Levi’s stoic facade.

“Sometimes,” he admits and his hand gets squeezed a bit harder, he looks at their joined hands. Weirdly enough he felt relief, he felt trust radiating from shaky hand and warm palm. Was this the reason why Eren tried to hold onto him so much - this calming feeling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter is here! The wait is long, as these take a while, but please do tell me what you think so far!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> A longer project for the Ereri fandom from me! It will take a while for a new chapter to appear, but bear with me, drop me an encouraging line or two and let's go through this quite heavy journet together! It will be worth it, trust me!


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